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BEQUEST OF 

ALBERT ADSIT CLEMONS 
(Not available for exchange) 










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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Meh Marster, you mo’ an’ mo’ like Mars Francis ev’y clay, same 
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OLE MARS 

AN’ 

OLE MISS 

( 


Edmund K. Goldsborough, M. D. 

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Washington, D. C.: 
NATIONAL PUBLISHING CO., 
1900. 


?z 3 

■Qs7>8 

QSl 


COPYRIGHT, 1900 

BY 

EDMUND K. GOLDSBOROUGH, M. D. 


Bequest 

Albert Adsit Glemonfl 
Aug. 24, 1938 
(Not available for exchange; 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Ole Mars, Frontispiece 

Page 

Miss Sanson in the saddle , - - - -8 

Ff’n you don ’ git of’n dat cow I’ll whup you tell 

dere ain’ no bref lef ’ in you , - - 14 - 

Tench Tilghman, 18 

Anne Francis , ------ 20 

Miss Henrietta’s gift that hung over the pulpit , 28 

Tench Francis , ------ 32 

Mars Pinckney ivhen a boy , - - - - 48 

Pawson Demby baptizing Tilly Mink just after 

cutting ice , ------ SO 

Mars Pinckney’s home , “ Fausley,” - - -62 

The picture on the face of the Moses clock , - 78 

Mars Torm fishing in Black Creek , - - - 90 

Rob Roy and Rose, 94 

Yo ’ gwine ter merry uh King an’ hab thutteen 

chillun, ------- 106 

Dem two gals, Marfy an’ Muhtilda, out da in 

de watah sorf crabbin ’ , is meh gran’ chillun, 112 
Deah gre’t gran’ mammy gibs ’em too much cawn- 
bred, an’ hit natchelly puts noshuns in deah 

haids, 114 

Ole Mars had de gre’tes’ confluence in meh ’ rasity , 118 

Scipio Jonas Jones and Nimrod, - - -120 












MISS SANSON IN THE SADDLE 



































PERSONS REPRESENTED 


Parson Phil Demby 

An adept in breaking colts and steers, and especially hearts. 

Can read a wee bit and has a remarkable memory. Very gallant among the 
dusky damsels. Has the best coon dogs on the plantation. 

Uncle Reubin Viney 

Sensible, truthful and pious. Sir Oracle among the negroes. Can read 
some and is familiar with the Bible. 

Damon Danridge 

Courtly, intelligent and observant body servant to Rev. William Pinckney. 
His bow would have charmed Beau Brummel. 

Ezra 

Quite as much of a beau as Rosin, and not as pious as the prophet. 

Frisby Jemes 

A pupil of Uncle Reubin Viney. Afraid of shirks [s/iar&s]. 

Scipio Jones 

A firm believer in witches, ghosts and “spirits,” especially applejack. 

Hesakiah Sprouts 

Would rather coon hunt than debate. A fiddler. 

Little Billy 

A crafty wag. Nimble untied. 

Juba Viney 

A fine sinoer and hymn raiser. Kinsman to Uncle Reubin. 

Deacon Rasmus Jasper Jemes 

A pompous, dandy darkey ; very wise in his own conceit. A good preacher. 

Stephen Demby ( Uncle Stephen) 

A dear old servant. A devoted fisherman. Little and Bent. 

John Poney 

A very entertaining darkey. Took hold of his wool when he bowed to you. 


Jerry Butler and Caesar Butler 

Brothers. Very credulous and superstitious. Free negroes. 

Horace Duley 

Janitor. 

Aunt Phillis 

gentle, sweet tempered, intelligent cook. Everybody liked Aunt Phillis. 

Tilly Mink 

Chickens were afraid of her, and roosted high when she was about 

Sue Benson 

A good naturtd, lazy housemaid. 

Becky Williams 

A faithful nurse. 

Sister Chew 

A dairymaid. 

Mammy 

Good as gold. 

Nancy Young 

A fortune teller. 

Uncle David 

Who loved his mule. 


CONTENTS 


“ Fogitfulness,” 21 

Acts 7:8—“ Ab'ham fogot Isaac, Isaac fogot Jacob, an' Jacob fogot de twelve 
Petracks [ Patriarchs ]. 

Debate , 34 

Ef'n uh man er ' ooman hab salbation in deah hyarts, will dey be feard 
ter babtize wha shirks [sharks] is. 

“ Romp’s Mustake ” — Doggerel , 4.5 

“ Little Billy’s Pumpkin” — Story, - ^7 

Sermon — Psalm 63:6 , 60 

Debate , 76 

From Zachariah 2:6 — “ Ef'n Ho Ho wan' uh Chine er Japne, who wuz het" 

“ Rash-nal an’ Pus-^ial” — Doggerel , - - 90 

“ De Composation ub de Snipe” — Story , - 91 

“ Nancy Young ” — Story , - - - -100 

u Mars Pinckney’s ’Simmons” — Doggerel , - 110 

11 Dem Days” — Story , 112 

11 Dat Chrismus Cake ” — Doggerel , - - 126 

“ When Saul Run ’ W T ay ” — Story, - 127 

“ Let Us Meek Brick ” — Sermon , - - 137 

“Juba Viney’s Yaller Pants” — Story , - - 153 

“ His Bref Kinleth Coals” — Sermon , - 164 

“ Dat Aunty dote” — Doggerel, - - -171 

“ Ezra Story , 173 

“ Mammy ” — Doggerel, 213 

“ Anah ” — Story, 215 
















































































“ OTWELL.” 


O TWELL was originally an estate of some 
2,000 acres, situated on a beautiful peninsula, 
the land rich and productive, and the forest 
would have charmed Silvanus. Here and there on 
the shores of the inlets grew majestic oaks, black 
walnut, and immemorial elms. The peach, pear, 
apricot, fig and other fruit trees flourished, and would 
have charmed Eve, and the Cart House apples, 
Adam. 

The forest was entirely of lofty pines — many of 
the trees so large that one tree made a canoe; they 
were made and used principally by the servants and 
were in evidence almost everywhere. The forest had 
very little undergrowth ; the ground was carpeted and 
cushioned with pine fallings, and the huntsmen were 
delighted when reynard was started there. The mur- 
muring of the wind in the lofty pine tops, the tongue- 
ing of the hounds “like sweet bells jangled out of 
tune,” delighted the hearts of the Tilghmans, Cham- 
berlains, Dickinsons, Tripps, Robins, Lloyds and 
many others that followed the hounds, horsemen of 
the first-flight type. The hunt over, there was “The 
feast of reason and the flow of soul.” 


[ 13 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


The river was as lovely as the Bay of Spezia, and 
from its bed and shores the canvas-back and red-head 
plucked the wild celery and fattened. Fish, terrapin 
and oysters abounded, and the mint luxuriated. The 
Eastern Shore of Maryland was then as now the gar- 
den spot and sunny side of creation. 

Before the hour of parting two songs were always 
sung, “Sportsman Hall” and “The Bottle,” the 
former sent by The Beef Steak Club of London to 
one of the above named gentlemen. I could give the 
words, rich and rare, left me by my father, but 
delicacy forbids; both are exquisite double entendres 
fit to sing before kings, but not before queens. 

There was a school at Otwell, taught by John 

Singleton and Garrick, two fine belles-lettres 

scholars, to which came the Robins from Job’s Con- 
tent, Tilghmans from Plimhimmon, Chamberlains 
from Bondfield, Haskins from Canterbury Manor, 
Morrises and Collisters from Oxford. John Single- 
ton’s sister was the mother of the eminent portrait 
painter, John Singleton Copley, who on a visit to his 
Uncle at Otwell with his former preceptor, Smibert, 
made portraits of Anne Francis, James Tilghman, 
Matthew Tilghman and his wife, nee Annie Lloyd, 
whilst spending Christmas there. 

Standing on his front porch Ole Mars Hickey 
viewed his broad acres, whose shores were washed by 


[ 14 ] 



Dem’s meh gre’t gran’ chillun an’ dey monstus bad! Ef’n you don 
git of’n dat cow I’ll wliup you till da ain’ no bref lef ’in you. 

































































































































































































































































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss . 


the T red- Avon, by crystal creeks, and coves with 
beautiful mouths that kissed with briny lips the bosom 
of the river. The windmill on the shore added to 
the scenery as its sails moved languidly, grinding the 
wheat and corn for the negroes. 

To the south on the river side was the little town 
of Oxford, a tobacco port, and riding at anchor was a 
brigantine from Liverpool, being loaded with tobacco 
by Morris & Callister (Robert Morris and Henry Cal- 
lister), shipping merchants.* 

From the back porch, through a long, wide and 
high arbor entwined with fruitful grapevines, you 
saw Otwell Creek, and the arbor-way led you into a 
more enchanting garden than the one mentioned in 
“EZRA,” where my fancy loves to wander, for “a 
thing of beauty is a joy forever.” 

It was some fifteen acres in extent. The encircling 
fences were so overgrown with honeysuckle, clematis 
and trailing roses as to look like a flowery hedge, with 
here and there lilacs and snowballs. The winding, 
wooing walks w^ere hedged with box, and bowing trees 
were caressed by fruitful grapevines. It was a 
banqueting place for bees, and a paradise for birds, 

♦Robert Morris was the father of the revolutionary financier, 
and Henry Callister, a philanthropist who befriended the de- 
ported hapless Acadians, sent to Annapolis, Md., in 1775, and 
gave large sums from his own pocket to relieve their suffering, 
to the serious impairment of his moderate fortune. 


[ 15 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


from little Jennie Wren to the proud mocking bird, 
and they filled acres of air with their melodious lays. 

Ezra loved to assist old Kurchibell, the Scotch gar- 
dener, and one day he was heard to say, “Mr. Kurchi- 
bell ain’ no gyardner less’n he kill dem plegon sassy 
catbirds and robins; dey jes spilin’ all dem cherries. 
I’m gwine right straight an tell Ole Mars an Ole 
Miss !” Betimes Ezra would saunter with basket on 
each arm to the garden and gather the dew-kissed 
peaches, apricots, juicy melons and other fruits, 
and later cull the 100-leaf roses and assist the old 
gardener in distilling them. The rose cakes left were 
tucked away in the house linen, the fragrance of 
which in fancy I still inhale. 

The apple trees flung down so many blossoms that 
they covered the ground. All are gone! so are the 
other fruit trees and fragrant vines. 

“Leaves have their time to fall 
And flowers to wither at the North 
Wind’s breath, 

And stars to set; but all — 

Thou hast all seasons for thine 
Own, O death!” 

About the middle of the garden was a large bower, 
roughly made of cedar, but as strong as Jacob’s lad- 
der. Clematis, honeysuckle and beautiful trailing 
roses covered its sides and dome-shaped top so 


[ 16 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


thoroughly that only here and there little sunbeams 
could pierce and play among the intervowen vines 
and blossoms. In the center of the bower was a large 
table, from which fruit was eaten, cards played, tea 
made (echo), and love made! Almost within arm’s 
reach of the arbor was a brimming spring, whose 
water was soft and pure as a dewdrop. The spring 
is there to-day, and, like the brook, flows on forever. 

When the weather was dry Miss Henrietta dipped 
its pellucid w r ater and sprinkled the thirsty arbor 
vines, 

“But O! for the touch of a vanished hand 
And the sound of a voice that is still.” 

Around the spring grew mint in exuberance, that 
was as much cared for as the foxhounds. Mayhap 
in that arbor Tench Francis tinkled the sides of his 
glass in mixing sugar and grass with spirits, sipped 
and read letters from his gay and brilliant nephew, 
*Sir Phillip Francis, the supposed author of the let- 
ters of Junius, then one of England’s Counsel for 
India; maybe told all about his duel with Warren 
Hastings, then Governor-General of India; for we 
know that his cousin, the beautiful Anne Francis, 
visited “Otwell” with her husband, James Tilghman, 
who met there his brother, Matthew, the great pa- 

♦Macaulay says, “Our own firm belief is that he was.” 


[ 17 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


triot, and his wife, who was charming Anne Lloyd. 
There, too, Tench Tilghman, aide-de-camp to Wash- 
ington, and his wife, spent happy hours. Later his 
daughter married the host, and there in luxury and 
loving kindness lived 

“OLE MAES an’ OLE MISS.” 

’Twas a very cold Sunday in December. The sun 
shone brightly, but the wind was on a frolic. High- 
crested, white-capped waves leaped upon and lashed 
the shore. Ole Miss, as usual, had service for the 
house servants in the brick kitchen. She said the 
Lord’s prayer, read the 63d psalm, commented upon 
their deportment for the past week and then they 
were dismissed. 

Pawson Demby was to preach in the new Zion 
church, and the servants were now on the lawn look- 
ing for the Plimhimmon, Bondfield and Job’s Con- 
tent boats. In those days visiting was done for the 
most part by- water, the numerous creeks, coves and 
bays making distance so great by land. The servants 
used the eight-oared barges, boats of burden, with 
sails and generally two masts, called a pinnace; they 
carried to the large schooners wheat, corn and other 
cereals for the Baltimore market, and in return 
brought hogsheads of molasses, sugar, coffee, rice, 
boots and shoes for the servants. 


[ 18 ] 



TENCH TILGHMAN, 


































































































Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

Presently Little Billy sang out, “Heah dey come !” 
and sure enough, rounding Wind Mill Point and 
turning into Otwell Creek, were three barges — tip- 
tap-toe — each pulled by eight lusty oars. The angry 
roar of the waves, the struggling boats, the landscape 
and the breaking billows made it a picturesque sight. 
Soon they were at the wharf. Most of them were 
house servants, and it would be for me a hopeless task 
to describe their raiment, the old-time courtesies, 
graceful bows and how-dys with which they greeted 
one another. 

Those negroes were environed for generations with 
kindness, culture, refinement and Christian teaching, 
so that many of them had finished manners, knew 
perfectly 

“How ter wait 

On Marster’s table an’ han’ de plate, 

Pfrrs de boittle when he dry 
And brush away de blue-tail fly.” 

They were dependent, kind, obedient, full of music, 
contentment, and happiness. The venom of the 
politician and carpetbagger had not stung them. 

Greetings over, they all strolled to the new brick 
church, distant about three-quarters of a mile. Like 
all the churches of that day, the pulpit was much 
nearer heaven than the pews, and above it hung a 
picture given them by Miss Henrietta. It had a bell, a 


[ 19 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


clock — described in Ho-Ho — and a fireplace large 
enough for half a dozen darkies to stand and warm 
themselves. When all were seated Uncle Stephen 
was asked to pray, and then Parson Phil Demby 
preached. 

His text was “Fogitfulness.” 


[ 20 ] 



ANNE FRANCIS. 



























































































































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


“FOGITFULNESS.”* 

“Dat is de subjec’ ub my discose dis mawnin’, and 
I is preachen mo’ ’specially to de chillun in de meetin’ 
bouse. Uncle Reubin Viney an’ I was a huskin’ cawn 
Jars’ week an’ he tol’ me boutin dis tex’, and arsked me 
to preach fum it; an’ you will find de ’zact words in 
de 7th chapta ub Acts, 8th vus: ‘Ab’ham fogot Isaac, 
Isaac fogot Jacob and Jacob fogot de twelve Petracks.’ 
Dem ole Petracks was a pow’ful fogitful race ub peo- 
ple! Uow, ten ub dem Petracks, Simeon, Levi an’ 
Zebulon, dey wuz Miss Leah’s chillun (I fogit de 
names ub de res’ ub her chillun, but dey wuz all 
Jews). An’ Joseph an’ Benjamin, dey wuz Miss 
Rachel’s chillun, an’ de Bible say dey wuz saints. One 
ub ’em er his uncle, I fogit which, foun’ some mules 
in de wilderness ez he wuz watchin’ his father’s sheep, 
but he wuz so fogitful dat he didn’t gib de names ub 
de mules or how many dey wuz — some people say da 
wan’ no mules at all, dey wuz all Jackasses. Well, 
lemmy see — da wuz two mo’ ub Jacob’s sons (I dun 


•To appreciate this sermon the 29th chapter of Genesis should 
be read if the reader is not familiar with the same. 


[ 21 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


mention five), an 7 I fogit deah la’s name, but deab 
names wuz Dan an 7 Naptha, or sompin 7 like dat (I lef 7 
my specks horn 7 ). I don 7 think dey wuz Jews, er 
Dukes like Esau’s sons, an 7 I don 7 7 zactly no deah 
7 ligion, but I specks dem two wuz Babtis’s. ’Pears to 
me I heam Uncle Reubin say so ! How-some-eber, all 
ub dem chillun ub Jacob’s wuz born in Panorama 
[Padanaram] an 7 dev’s all uh pow’ful fogitful race ub 
people. 

“Brudderin, da is nothin’ ez bad ez fogitfulness. 
Ef 7 n my memory wuz not good (kase I lef 7 my specks 
at horn 7 ) I could not gib you any ub dese beautiful 
names. Now, den, dese ten brudders wuz sent by deah 
Pa way down in Egyp 7 lan 7 futto buy cawn fum 
deah eleventh brudder. An 7 bless yo 7 soul, when dey 
got down da, dey didn’t eben no deah brudder — but 
he no’d dem. Mebby de color ub his coat ’fused ’em. 
I tell you dem old Petracks is a pow’ful fogitful race 
ub people. So wuz deah Ma’s an 7 Pa’s. Laban, de 
Granpa ub de Petracks, and prob’ly de bigist farmer 
in dem days, wuz uh fogitful man. We is told dat 
Jacob (wonder why dey jes 7 call ’em Jacob, an 7 
Noahy, an 7 Moses, an 7 Peter, an 7 Rasmus dey’s mos 7 
ub ’em kings an 7 dukes an 7 sich like. I mus 7 ask 
Uncle Reubin boutin dat. Well, Jacob merried Miss 
Rachel, so he did, but I specks Jacob got a little 
hct up at de weddin 7 . An 7 Laban, he mus 7 hab had 


[ 22 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


some ros’ apples wid apple-jack. Brudderin, apples 
is bin makin’ trubble eber since Adam totcb ’em — 
kase Laban he fogot which daughter Jacob wuz 
gwine ter marry. ’Pears like Jacob fogot, too, kase 
he didn’t scover de mustak’ till de nex’ mawnin’. An’ 
’pears like Miss Leah an’ Miss Rachel fogot. Row, 
wan’ dey nh f ogitf nl lot ub people ? De nex’ mawnin’ 
arfter de weddin’ — or as de Bible say, de feas’ — when 
Jacob got up to milk de cows an’ yoke de oxin, da 
was Miss Leah up, an’ shakin’ down de stove an’ 
grindin’ de coffee. An’ Jacob say, ‘Wha Rachel'?’ 
an’ Miss Leah say, ‘I dunno nuffin boutin Rachel.’ 
Da wuz uh mustak’ some wha, sho. So J acob merrie'd 
’em bof to be sartin an’ pleas’ Laban. Ro wonder 
dat de Petracks wuz uh fogitful race wid four Ma’s 
an’ uh Pa all fogitful ; an’, mine you, Miss Rachel she 
wuz so fogitful seems to me her mine mus’ hab been 
’stressed, kase you recommember when her boys Jacob 
an’ Esau went out an’ kilt uh deer, she fogot which 
kilt it — leas’wise it ’pears so. Well, as fo’ dat, I 
specks de fus’ man, Adam, hissef was absen’-minded. 
He sut’nv lubbed fruit. We all knows dat. An’ I 
specks he wuz hongry, an’ mebby po’ Adam when he 
clum up de apple tree in de dark tho’t it wuz uh 
peach tree — kase when a man is hongry he ain’ 
’stressin’ hissef boutin de fruit, so it’s good. An’ I 
specks he got ’fused ’bout de trees, kase dat gyarden 


[ 23 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


wuz full ub fruit trees, from apple trees clean down 
to cucumbers and watermillions. 

“King Dabid come outin uh fogitful fam’ly. De 
Bible tell us dat in dem days Pharez fogot Hezron, 

an’ Hezron fogot Ram ” 

Sister Becky (interrupting) : “Pawson Demby, 
you mus’ mean Ham or Sham V ’ 

“Chile, I kin read; I means Ram! Dat’s 
what I mean ! Ram wuz uh white pusson; Ham wuz 
uh eullud pusson. Well, dey kep’ on fogittin’ till 
Jesse fogot Dabid. But blessid to say, de lars’ one 
wuz not uh f ogitter ; he recommembered mos’ too well 
— leas’ wise fuh dese days. He had Uriahy kilt kase 
he wuz rite smart tuck on Uriahy’s wife. In dese 
days it’s mo 7 dan de chucli 'low; how-some-eber, in 
dem days it didn’t stress uh pusson ef’n uh man’s wife 
fogot him, kase dey had so many dey wouldn’t miss 
’em, ’cep’in five er six lef’ ’em. JSTow, chillun, boys 
wuz bad in dem days same as now. Po’ King Dabid’s 
son ’stressed him pow’ful, but he neber fogot him, 
an’ he mus’ uh favo’d he Pa and bin uh monstus 
fine-lookin’ chile, kase de Bible say — lemmy read it 
to you : ‘ Ab-so-lum wuz prais’ fuh he beauty f um de 
sole ub he foot ebin to de crown ub he haid.’ An’ 
de king wuz gwine to meek a Babtis’ preacher outin 
him, but he fogot his po’ father an’ run uh way; 
and what wuz de consequasion ub dat boy’s badness? 


[ 24 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


Sistus an’ chillun, it’s wussa dan stealin’ water- 
millions er chickens; it’s mos’ ez bad ez dancin’ an’ 
playin’ de fiddle on de Sabbuth. Well, de Bible tell 
us dat Ab-so-lum* rid ’pon uli mule, an’ de mule went 
under de thick bows ub uh jack oak, an’ his haid kotch 
hold ub de oak (I mean de haid ub little Ab-so-lum) 
an’ he wuz’ tuck up ’tween de heaben an’ de uth; 
an’ de mule dat wuz under him went ’way, an’ dat 
wuz de las’ ub po’ Ab-so-lum. Ez many hosses ez 
dat ventersum chil’ mus’ uh had, an’ ez many ez his 
brudder Solomon had, it’s quare to me why he rid 
uh ornry mule. Dey mus’ uh bin uh breed ub mules 
an’ jackasses dat’s died out — kase mules an’ jackasses 
wuz de favorite beases in dem days. 

“De chillun ub Ephram fogot de works ub de Lawd, 
an’ his wonders, arfter he had rain down manner ’pon 
’em to eat. Uncle Beubin say de manner wuz mush- 
rooms. De reason ub de flood, is kase de chillun 
ub man fogot deah benefits. Dey wan’t satisfied wid 
creeks an’ ribbers, but dey mus’ provok’ uh flood. Is 
dar any pusson in dis chuch dat would fogit Miles 
Bibber? De Petracks would. Dunno though! Kase 
I reckin da wan’t no ribbers in dem days lubly as Miles 
Bibber. Kin I eber fogit her wha’ I wuz born? How 
it charm an’ conjur me when I goes fishin’, oysterin’ 
er crabbin’ in de mawnin’s, when de ribber is cam. 
Den de trees is ’fleeted in de watah an’ de heb’nly 


* II Samuel xviii, 9, 10. 


[ 25 ] 


Ole Mars an? Ole Miss . 


clouds meek rainbows in de watab. An’ dat Miles 
Ribber is so clare when de trees is ’fleeted in de 
mawnin’ befo’ de sun-up, you kin see de jewdraps on 
de leabes. An’ sometimes all day long when de breeze 
is sorf de sun plays on de ripples, an’ when de sun 
git tired an’ sink in de wes’ de moon plays on de watah 
sorter ridin’ de canterin’ wabes. An’ de hooppo-wills 
sing, an’ de mockin’ birds chant, an’ de wabes chases 
de moonlight, an’ de moonlight chases de wabes ; an’ 
de stars way down deep in de watah winks an’ twinks 
at yer, an’ dey looks ez bright ez de eyes ub 
Phareoh’s daughter an’ almos’ ez sorf’ ez uh possum’s. 
It’s uh sin to play on de fiddle, flute an’ fife, an’ to 
dance, but, brudderin, it’s ’spirin’ an’ heb’nly to see de 
moon dance on Miles Ribber, spreadin’ hissef on de 
top ub de wabes, makin’ dem de color ub silver, jes’ 
like dear ole Missis hyah. 

“Yes! Pawson Demby born close to Miles Rib- 
ber, an’ he lubs de watah nex’ to music. I’d lub 
to hab bin on de ark; dey tells me mos’ everything 
wuz on it, so ’cose music wuz. An’ I wouldn’t be 
s’prised ef dat sweet little cullud boy, Ham, didn’t 
play de banjo, an’ Sham de bones, an’ ’cose de udder 
brudder (I fogit his name) played! I reckin de 
hyarp. Kase hyarps wuz in de fashin in dem days. 
Dear little Dabid used to play de hyarp at night when 
he watched his Pa’s flocks, to make hissef feel happy, 


[ 26 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


an’ to skere de wolves an’ bars ’way. An’ he played 
fuh Saul er his daughter, I fogit which. Wonder 
how dey got deah hyarp an’ banjo strings dem days. 
Well, I kin almos’ see dat jus’ man, de captin ub de 
boat, arfter all de beases bin fed an’ bedded, set down 
in de stern ub de ship, take de rudder, lite his pipe, 
sigh fuh de watahs to cease an’ long fuh his dove to 
come back. An’ when de moon ris I specks Ham 
chune his banjo, Sham his bones, an’ de udder brud- 
der wid a quare name, twank de hyarp. An’ den dey 
mus’ hab played, ‘Roll, Jordan, Roll,’ ‘One Bright 
Ribber to Cross,’ ‘Swing Lo’, Sweet Chariot,’ ‘Go 
Down Moses,’ till de stars sunk in de skies, and de 
beases got relarmed. 

“Brudderin, we ain’t sung dat lars him fuh uh 
long time. Uncle Eph, you rase it an’ we will sing 
some ub de vuses, so I kin res’ mehsef uh little.” 


GO DOWN MOSES. 

When Israel wuz in Egypt’s Ian’: 

Let meh people go, 

Oppressed so hard dey could not stand, 
Let meh people go. 

Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land, 
Tell ole Pharoh, Let meh people go. 


[ 27 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


0, twuz uh dark an’ dismal nifce, 

Let meh people go; 

When Moses led de Israelites, 

Let meh people go. 

Go down, Moses, etc. 

0, cum ’long Moses, yo’ll not git los’, 

Let meh people go; 

Stritch out yo’ rod an cum across, 

Let meh people go. 

Go down, Moses, etc. 

Yo’ll not git los’ in de wilderness. 

Let meh people go; 

Wid a lighted candle in yo’ bres’, 

Let meh people go. 

Go down, Moses, etc. 

’Twas jes ’boutin harvis’ time, 

Let meh people go; 

When Joshua led his hos’ divine, 

Let meh people go. 

Go down, Moses, etc. 

“Brudderin, da wuz one man dat wuz not fogitful, 
an’ a man we all should intimate. I hab befo’ briefly 
’luded to him. I say briefly, kase a pawson mite talk 
boutin him fum de commencement to de closin’ ub 
a big camp meetin’ an’ not git fur on de subjec’. He 
nebber fogot. T’ink ub de animals he had to recom- 
member, fum elephants clean down to coons an’ ’pos- 
sums. Dey tells me he eben kep’ de chickens fum 


[ 28 ] 



Miss Henrietta’s gift, that hung above the pulpit 




























' 












. 


























Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


eatin’ up de watermillion seeds. He wuz uh sailor, 
gyardner, farmer, blacksmith, carpenter — King 
Dabid wuz no wha when he wuz ’bout. His name 
wuz Koahy. Uncle Reubin say de elephants, whales 
and hippopotamusses wuz so big an’ bad dat he chained 
dem outside de boat an’ let ’em float to make room. 
An’ de shirks an’ crocodiles had et up all de dogs,sepin 
fo’ coon dogs. So Koahy chained dem outside, too. 
’Cose Roahy wuz uh gre’t animal tamer, an’ I kin 
ondastan’ how he like so many animals, but I kyant 
ondastan’ why he didn’t pisen dem shirks. De Bible 
tells ’bout fishhooks, fishpools, fish spears an’ fishermen, 
an’ all ’bout Peter’s gwine uh fishin’, an’ de five loaves 
an’ two fishes (dey mus’ uh bin whales, kase dey fed 
so many) — but it don’t say nuflin boutin shirks. How- 
some-eber, I specks when Peter’s net broke da wuz uh 
shirk in it, kase when dey cum ’long da ain’ no 
use you takin’ up yo’ net, kase it’s clean gone. Uncle 
Reubin say ef’n it wan’ fuh de pitch on de wood ub 
de ark dey would hab chawed uh hole thoo huh. Dey’s 
kep’ many a sister fum coinin’ in de Babtis’ chuch, 
when dar’s only salt watah to dip in, like it is down 
heah on de Easton Sho’.” 

Aunt Phillis Yiney (interrupting) : “Pawson 
Demby, ef’n dem sistus had salbation in deah hearts 
dey wouldn’t keer fuh dem shirks any mo’ dan little 
Moses keered fuh de Bull-rushes.” 


[ 29 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

Voices: “Dat’s what I say, too!” “Yas, dat’s 

it!” “You done sed it.” “Dat’s de law, Sistah 
Viney.” 

Tilly Mink : “I’s gut salbation mehsef.” 

“Uncle Eph, will you pleas’ pars de barsket ’roun’ ? 
An’ I hope dis congation will stop dis shirk ’citement 
an’ not be fogitful boutin de collection. I exhort sis- 
tus an’ all heah present to gib lib’ly, an’ not be like 
dem fogitful ole Petracks. 

“We will include by singin’ de three fus’ vusses ub 
him seventy-fo’.” 


Zion is de place fuh me, 

Oh, I want to git da; 

Zaccheus clum uh sycamo’ tree, 

Oh, I want to git da. 

In de heb’nly horn’ we’ll all be free, 
Oh, I want to git da; 

De Angel Gabriel den we’ll see, 

Oh, I want to git da. 

Mary an’ Marfa’s gone befo*; 

Oh, I want to git da; 

Baptized an’ shoutin’ on de golden sho’; 
Oh, I want to git da. 


Pawson Demby requested Uncle Stephen to “Please 
led us in prayer,” whereupon Uncle Stephen prayed 
as follows : 


[ 30 ] 


Ole Mars an y Ole Miss. 


“Sistus, brers an’ little chillun, recommember! 
Dat’s de qualificashun, an’ don’ fogit it. Po’ Lot’s 
wife, sbe fogot, looked back, an wuz turnt inter uh 
pillow ub salt. 

“Fogitf illness is wuss’n playin’ de fiddle, dancin’, an’ 
nh cuss’n one nerr. Hits almos’ ez bad ez fishin’ on 
de Sabbuth day. Y-a-s, Lawd, fogitfulness is bin uh 
’stressin’ people ev’y sense Adam clum de apple tree 
an’ eat dem apples. Ab-so-lum fogot his Pa’s ’struc- 
tions, er he wudn’ er rid un’er dat oak tree an’ let dat 
lim’ twiss his neck ef’n he hadn’ bin frolikin’, I 
specks, wid dat ornry King Fario. Y-a-s, Lawd, tech 
us ter recommember. De prodigal son fogot he Pa’s 
ways, an’ you know de consequation. ’Sted ub fogit- 
tin’, meek us ter recommember; y-a-s, Lawd, meek us 
ter recommember dat de debbil is uh rovin’ lion, 
seekin’ who he may eat up.* Don’ let us be like 
J acob, de Petrack, who fogot hissef an’ tried ter rassel 
wid uh angel, an’ de fus’ fall he got his leg wuz flung 
outin jint. 

“But da is one thing dat you kin fogit; hits 
dem shirks [sharks] in Miles Ribber. Some ub 
our sistus is got de shirk fright so bad dey is persid- 
derin jinin’ de Presbyters. Sweet sistus, don’ yer 
do hit. Ev’y man’s mouf ain’ uh prayerbook, an’ uh 
case orntried is hyard ter justify. Persidder us, deah 

♦Genesis, Chapter 32, Ver. 24, 25. 


[ 31 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Lawd, burhol us, be wid us, cum down right now in 
de spirit ub de lam’ ; cum right th’oo de roof, Ole 
Mars will pay fuh de shingles. Dese moners is uh 
waitin’ fuh you. Y-a-s, indeed, cum down dis minit 
an’ cur-tail de work ub de debbil.” 

By this time old Harrison, Colonel Lloyd’s faithful 
and credulous servant from “Wye,” became so much 
excited that he jumped up and shouted, “Yas, Lawd, 
cum down an cut he tail clean orf,” whereupon Uncle 
Stephen arose, patting his hands, and singing : 

DIDN’T MY LORD DELIVER DANIEL. 

Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel, 

D’liver Daniel, d’liver Daniel, 

Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel, 

And why not a every man ? 

He deliver’d Daniel from the lion’s den, 

Jonah from the belly of the whale, 

And the Hebrew children from the liery furnace, 

And why not every man? 

Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel, 

D’liver Daniel, d’liver Daniel, 

Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel, 

And why not a every man? 

The wind blows East, and the wind blows West, 

It blows like the judgment day, 

And every poor soul that never did pray, 

’Ll be glad to pray that day. 


[ 32 ] 





TENCH FRANCIS. 



































































































































































m 












































































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mm 


















































































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Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


The singing over, Parson Demby announced — 
“Befo’ goin’ I wan’ ter say dat de deacons is so 
’stressed ober ’mersion dey has ’cided ter hold uh 
rebate in de Zion Chuch fo’ weeks fum nex’ Chus- 
day, an’ de subjec’ chusin will be, ‘Ef’n uh man er 
woman hab salbation in deah hy arts, will dey be feared 
ter babtiz wha shirks is V Ef ’n hits ’cided hits danger- 
some, salbation er no salbation, I hope dis congation 
will git somebody’s ice pon’, an’ ef’n dey kyant do no 
better, somebody’s big hoss trough fuh de ’mersions. 

“I ’pints rebaters fuh dem dat’s not feared — Frisby 
Jemes, Hesekiah Sprouts, Damon Mink. 

“Euh dem dat’s feared, Uncle Reubin Viney, Juba 
Viney, Scipio Jones, Horace Duley. I puts fo’ on 
de side ub dem dat’s feared, kase it’s de weak side. 

“ Judges — Pawson Phil Demby, Deacon Rasmus 
Jasper Jemes.” 


[ 33 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


DEBATE. 


Ef’n uh man er woman hab salbation in deah 
hearts, will dey be feared ter babtiz wha’ shirks 
[sharks] is? 

“Aunt Tillie, is de ’bate commence ?” 

“Ho, indeed, honey, but you almos’ late fuh de feas’ 
— dar’s resins, ammons an’ dates lef’. ” 

“Is dem dates? Bless Gord, I tho’t dey wuz dried 
’simmons; well, I’ll teck some resins an’ dates. How 
cum de ’bate not commence?” 

“Why, Phillis, dey got word ter ’speck three loads 
ub people fum Kyarline County, an’ two loads fum 
Queen Anne’s an’ Kent,” 

“How, hush!” 

“Y-a-s dey did ! So dey’s waitin’ ; besides, dey ain’ 
got all de books outin de kyart. Uncle Reubin Viney 
fotch uh wheelbarr load hissef, an’ dey tell me Da- 
mon Mink is so ’thused fuh his side, dat fuh two weeks 
he has bin speakin’ ter hissef. How cum you so late, 
Phillis? We had uh lot ub plum-puddin’.” 

“Well, dat lars chile ub Miss Mary’s is pow’ful 
hyard ter put ter sleep; when I commenc’ ter nuss de 


[ 34 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


chile I had jes 7 larnt dat new hym, “Git on board 
little chillun 7 , an 7 I am sut’ny sorry Pawson Demby 
fotch dat hym ter de chuch, kase dat chile 
mecks me sing it ober an 7 ober, till I sho’ly ’spise de 
chnne. Mon dat, de chile wnz bo’n on de fus 7 nb de 
moon; lars yeah wuz leap yeah, an 7 da wuz only three 
full moons, an 7 dat chile wuz bo’n on one ub dem 
moons. 7 Cose Miss Mary kyant help dat. Dey tells 
me cats bo 7 n on de full ub de moon neber mecks 
mousers, an 7 chickens hatched on de full ub de moon 
is fussin 7 all de time and neber mecks good layers. 

“I lef 7 home plenty time er null ter git ter de feas 7 . 
De moon wuz so bright I tuck de parf th 7 oo de peach 
archard, 7 stead er gwine roun 7 by de road; you see, it 
cuts orf erbout uh harf mile. When I wuz 7 bout harf 
way th’oo de archard I saw in de parf uh hooppo-will 
singin 7 fuh deah life, goin 7 jes 7 like uh pump handle; 
an 7 wussa yit, when I look good da wuz two ub ’em. 
Dey say it’s bad luck fuh nine year ef’n you flush uh 
hooppo-will, so what mus 7 it be ef’n you flush two? I 
wudn 7 hab flushed dem two hooppo-wills fuh uh load 
ub watermillions — so I walked heah erlong de ribber 
sho 7 ; den I wuz almos 7 skeer’d stiff, fuh I recommem- 
ber’d what I had fogot, an 7 dat wuz, dat lars 7 wintah 
Scipio Jones wuz mus’-rattin 7 an 7 uh Jack-uh-ma-lan- 
tern tuck an 7 led him in de watah clean up ter his 
neck, jes 7 erbout wha I wuz walkin’, kep him in de 


[ 35 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


ribber fuh two hours, uh laffin’ at an’ sassin’ him” 

Aunt Tillie : “ Served him right, fuh dem days he 
wuz al ? ays trav’lin’ ’roun’ wid uh juice-hyarp in his 
mouf.” 

“Aunt Tillie, dey tell me Mars George’s Bob is 
broke his erligion an’ tuck up his fiddle ergin. How- 
some-eber, Mars Kichard say de Bible tells all erbout 
trumpets, shams an’ flutes, but you see dem trumpets 
wuz made ub ram’s hohns; leas’ wise de trumpets dat 
Gideon made de Pawsons play — so Uncle Reubin say, 
so ubcose, dey wan’t bad like brass hohns ; nobody kin 
meek me bleebe dat playin’ on brass hohns wid keys 
an’ locks is right. I think Pawson Demby orter 
keep ev’y one outin de chuch dat plays de fiddle er 
hohns. John Poney’s son, Jim, is goin’ erstray; I 
hearn him walkin’ ’long de road lars nite sorter twan- 
kin er tryin’ ter twank uh cow’s hohn an’ singin’ loud 
ernuf futto almos’ bus’ hissef — 

I ain’ no tukkey buzzard 
I ain’ no saint, 

I ain’ no tukkey buzzard, 

So glad I ain’t. 

“Now, wan’t dat scanlus? It’s jes’ ez bad ez fishin’ 
on Sunday. Dat’s what gib Jim Brooks de brake-bone 
fever, fishin’ on Sunday; but de doctor tole Kyarline, 
his wife, not ter be relarmed, but reposed; dat de 
boneset tea he wuz ergibbin’ him would kow de wus 


[ 36 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


kine ub brake-bone fever. Doctor Dawson is sut’ny 
nh pow’ful doctor. Fuh instinct, meb arms wuz all 
broke ont. He say dey wnz too clean fum habin 7 dem 
in soapsuds too much, so be tole me ter grease meh 
arms wid goose grease befo 7 I commenc 7 ter wasb. 
Well, it made de skinsorf,kep 7 de water outin de poors, 
an 7 it sboly cured meb arms. Aunt Betsy wuz 7 tirely 
mustakin; sbe say dat when I got bet up wasbin 7 da 
wuz ub checkeration ub pusspuration, an 7 dat made it. 

“I beab de bell ringin 7 , Aunt Tillie, so let’s go in, 
fub dat mus 7 mean de speeebifyin 7 gwine futto com- 
mence . 77 

Just as they entered Pawson Pbil Demby said: 
“Sistus an 7 brudders, de fus 7 ter pester dis subjec 7 will 
be Brer Frisby Jemes; den Brer Rasmus Jemes, den 
Brer Hesakiab Sprouts, an 7 de gre’t speller an 7 reader, 
Uncle Reubin Yiney. Da ain 7 no use ub interjuicin 7 
’em, kase almos 7 ev’ybody beab has kep 7 company 
wid ’em.” 

Frisby Jemes: “I wuz ’pinted on dis side, an 7 de mo 7 
I think erbout it de mo 7 I think bits de rong side; de 
fac 7 is, meh mind is pow’ful ’stressed. You see, I bin 
rasslin 7 wid bof sides ub de ’bate, an 7 de consequation 
is, I is bin dreamin 7 ’bout ole shirks an 7 young shirks 
fub two weeks, till I kyant res’ ; an 7 I kyant see why 
dey tuck such uh fishy subjec 7 ter ’bate erbout. Re- 
posin’ on erligion, I shall res’ meb remarks on de salba- 


[ 37 ] 


Ole Mars an* Ole Miss. 

tion part ub dis ’bate, an’ I wan’ ter say rite heah dat 
salbation an’ de funnel-sbape pen is all dat will preserb 
you fum dem shirks. We mus’ bab de pen, fuh ef’n 
da is anyone heah ornsartin erbout deah faith, an’ 
nach’ly timid like many nb de sistus ( ub cose we men 
ain ’ feard ), dat pen mus’ be built an’ de rails kiwered 
wid tar, ter keep dem shirks fum chawin’ de rails. 
Now, we kin make uh funnel-shaped pen, an’ hab de 
mouf ub de funnel jes’ big ernuf fuh one at uh time 
ter go in; de shirks, ub cose, kyant git in.” 

Wilson Small (interrupting) : “Why kyant dey git 
in? Kyant dey jump same ez you? Dey kin chaw 
up de pen. Dey is monstus sens’ble, an’ ef’n dey raal 
hongry dey would jump in, tell dey fill dat pen an’ 
hab all ub dem moners in uh cluster.” 

Damon Mink: “You kyant qualify what you say, 
an’ fum yo’ talk, uh pusson mite s’pose de shirks 
know’d deah A. B. C.’s. Mon dat, you ain’ in dis 
’bate ! Wha you cum fum, anyhow ?” 

“Fum Queen Anne’s County; I’m uh free pusson.” 

Damon: “Well, we don’ ’low no free niggahs ter 
’bate heah!” 

“Suppose meh sistah ’longs ter Mars John Tilgh- 
man? What den?” 

“Set down; we ain’ talkin’ ’bout yo’ sistah, an’ dis 
subjec’is’stressin’ ernuf ’doutin you breakin’ de hyarts 
ub dese po’ sistus talkin’ erbout jumpin’ shirks!” 


[ 38 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

Hesakiah Sprouts: “Fris, you ain’ got salbation 
nufi in yo’ heart, dat’s what’s de matter wid you! 
Ef’n you had uh bin wha Jona wuz, in de whale’s 
belly fuh three days, you’d uh had spavins an’ cramps, 
kase you wudn’ had any faith an’ condidence in de 
whale, but Jona did.” 

Frisby Jemes: “Hessa, ef’n you had bin ris’ by 
de qual’ty you wudn’ say belly in de presence ub dese 
sistus; hits bad nuff in de presence ub shirks. Den 
ergin, da ain’ no whales in dis ’bate.” 

Hessa : “Why, you don’ no nuffin erbout de Bible, 
Fris! Talkin’ ’bout qual’ty; I reckon de prodigal son 
’longed ter de qual’ty, didn’t he? His father had 
plenty ub serbants, fuh de Bible say: ‘An’ when he 
cum ter hissef he said, “How many hired serbants ub 
meh father’s hab bread ter spare an’ I perish wid hon- 
ger ?” ’ An’ now, lis’n to dis : ‘An’ he fain wud hab 
filled his belly wid de husks dat de swine did eat.’ 
How, ef’n Jona, de prodigal son, St. Matthew, King 
Solomon, J erry Myah, Genesis, an’ lars, but not leas’, 
John de Babtis, who all hab spoke on dis subjec’, 
didn’ cum fum de qual’ty, wha’ did de qual’ty cum 
fum? I will preserb de res’ ub meh remarks fuh de 
’elusion.” 

Aunt Kyarline (in a whisper): “Hes, don’ you 
mine Fris; his haid bin turnt since he bin drivin’ de 
coach fuh Ole Miss.” 


[ 39 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


Uncle Reubin Viney was Sir Oracle among the ne- 
groes. He was very pious and austere, looked like an 
old portrait, could read a little, and spent his Sundays 
in reading and memorizing verses from the Bible. If 
he talked to you five imputes he would quote some- 
thing from the Bible. When he got up all ears were 
listening, and all mouths were open. He said: 

“Sistus, brudders an’ chillun, I is bin readin’ 
an’ studdyin’ fuh three weeks on dis ’bate, 
an’ Becky say she is tired ub dippin’ candles fuh me 
ter read by. De young oxen I is brakin’ is de wus’ 
I eber han’led; so worryin’ wid dem in de day time 
an’ rasslin’ wid dis ’bate at night, mecks me truly glad 
dat de time is come ter arbiter. I shall try an’ confine 
mehsef ter one word — watah. You will see de applica- 
tion pres’ny. Sister Sue, meek dat boy teck his musrat 
gum of’n de pew; you kin set yo’ musrat gum in de 
mash ez much ez you want, but not on dese pews, kase 
dey’re sanctified. 

“We read in de fus’ book ub Gensis, ‘dat a ribber 
went out ubEdum ter watah de gyarden,’ an’ in Sams, 
‘He maketh me ter lie down in green pastures, he 
leadeth me beside de still watahs.’ De still watah 
wuz de drink ub Mars Adum an’ Miss Eve in 
deah Edum home. Da wan’ no snakes, shirks, frogs, 
whales, er crockdiles in dat watah, fuhde Bible spress- 
ify hit wuz still watah. An’ mon dat, it mussa bin 


[ 40 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

fresh, kase dey drunk it, an’ it mussa bin jes’ ez clare 
ez uh jewdrap, fuh I heah uh gre’t Meffodis’ preacher 
say : ‘It ’fleeted back de lubliness ub Miss Eve when 
she dress hersef.” 

Aunt Tillie: “Uncle Reubin, Miss Eve didn’ hab 
no clos’ ter dress wid!” 

Uncle Reubin: “Well, I didn’ say what sort she 
put on; mout erbin crows-foot, spechly ef’n de fros’ 
had kilt de fig leaves, er it mout erbin Firginny 
Creeper, er she mout uh rap hersef in clusters ub 
grapevines ; we all no dar wan’ no fashion in dem days. 

“De Bible say: ‘Ez in water de face anserreth ter 
face, so de hart ub man ter man;’ so de water wuz Miss 
Eve’s lookin’ glass, dat’s what it mean; an’ all dat 
watah wuz fresh; de consequation wuz, da wuz no 
shirks in it.” 

Jim Brooks, from Queen Anne’s County: “I rid 
20 miles ter heah dis ’bate, an’ I wan’ ter no what 
watah got ter do wid it. Ev’body seems ter hab fogot 
de shirks.” 

Uncle Reubin: “I has jes’ ’cited uh vus fum 
Sams, an’ I will ’cite an nerr fum Proberbs: ‘Tho’ 
thou shouldst bray uh fool in uh morter ’mong 
wheat wid uh pessal, yet will not his foolishness depart 
fum him.’ Why, Brer Brooks, ef’n it hadn’ bin fuh 
watah de twelve Petracks mout neber bin bo’n. De 
narration say dat Mars Jacob met Miss Rachael at de 


[ 41 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


well, an’ ef’n de well had uh bin dry he mout neber 
hab met de mudder ub de Petracks. 

“Now, what wud dat gyarden bin ’dout plenty wa- 
tah? Dey wud uh lef’ it, an’ got an nerr gyarden ; fuh 
not only Mars Adum an’ Miss Eve baved in dat Para- 
dice watah, but de seeds an’ de vegetables sipped it, de 
flowers when deah faces got dusty, washed in it, de 
cups ub de blossoms hilt it, I specks, till de watah tu’n 
inter perfume, an’ I kin almos’ see de jewdraps 
hangin’ on ev’y leaf, mo’ lubly dan uh oyster pearl. 
It makes Uncle Peubin glad when he looks at watah, 
fuh it tu’ns our mills, gibs us cawn bred, brings de big 
schooners wid our boots, shoes, clothes an’ mullasses, 
an’ when de tide comes in, ’specially at sundown, when 
de birds is goin’ ter deah nesses, an’ de busy bees is 
wanderin’ home, da is nuffin I lubs mo’ ter look at, 
it’s so quiet an’ repose. ISTo place kin be lonely ef’n 
watah is da; but it’s uh sad thing, too, fuh what is mo’ 
’stressin’ dan eyes full ub tears. But mos’ ub all, 
young people ub dis chuch don’ fogit dat watah wash 
yo’ sins uh way, an’ meek you ez white ez de lam’. 
But I am condident da is only one kind fit fuh ’mer- 
sion, an’ dat’s fresh watah.” 

Sister Sue : “Dat’s it ; now yo’r climin’ dem gold- 
en stairs, Brer Viney!” 

Sally Mink: “Blessid be his brow, he’s fairly 
chantin’ de songs ub de Sams.” 


[ 42 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

Mrs. Rodgers’ Ned: “I is convicted, Brer Viney, 
an’ I plays de fiddle no mo’ !” 

Uncle Reubin : “Now, you begin ter see de appli- 
cation. Jordan, wha’ John de Babtis, wuz ’mersed, 
is fresh watah. Not far fum Jordan is de dead sea, 
which has mo’ salt dan Miles Ribber, kase it will float 
uh man same ez uh egg ; but de ’Postles tuck de fresh 
watah, kase I hab no doubt skirks wuz bad in dem 
days, an’ prob’ly wusser, ’speci’lly in de dead sea. Jes’ 
think ub our dear sistus, trem’lin’, soaked wid faith 
an’ salbation, speckin’ ev’y minit ter hab deah legs bit 
orf! Da ain’ uh sistuh in dis chuch dat ain’ had 
chills dis spring. De cold watah got nuffin ter do wid 
it ; it’s shirk fright; dat’s what’s de matter wid ’em. 
But blessin’s cum in disguise, an’ Providence 
mus’ hab brought dis ’bate, fuh it sot me ter read- 
in’, thinkin’ an’ prayin’, an’ I am confluent we will all 
hab ter be babtize a -fresh ; den da will be mo’ moners, 
mo’ shoutin’, an’ bless Gord, no shirk fright. I shall 
hab mo’ ter say ef’n de application ain’ well onda- 
stood.” 

Hesakiah Sprouts (in a whisper) : “Pawson Dem- 
by, uh young man jes’ cum in wants ter speak ter 
you. He is bashful; bin peepin’ an’ lis’nin’ at de do’. 
Mebby Uncle Reubin’s speechifyin’ hab made sal- 
bation in his heart.” 

“Jes’ so! Young man, who you ’long ter? Mars 
[ 43 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


John Skinner? Well, wispuh what’s in jo y heart; don’ 
be feared, kase salbation’s free !” 

“Pawson Demby, yo’ dogs is treed uh coon ’cross 
Peach Blossom Creek. Meh boat is on dis side.” 

Pawson Demby : “Belubbed sistus, as Brer 
Viney’s gre’t an’ pow’ful speech has fuh ever ’cided 
dis question fuh fresh watah, it is move, secon’, an’ 
carried, dat dis meetin’ ’jum.” 


[ 44 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ROMP’S MUSTAKE. 


Lars Sunday night me* an’ Fred went ter de swamp 
An’ it wan’ many minits fo’ we heahd ole Romp 

Talkin’ ter hissef, an’ tree’in’ up’n uh pine 
Dat wuz all obergrow’d wid uh big grapevine. 

Speak ter him Romp! Mus’ be uh ’possum, Fred, 

De way dat dog is cacklin’ an’ losin’ ub he hed. 

An’ feedin’ on dese fros-bit grapes an’ fat 

Ef he won’ meek yo’ lip go flip-flop, teck dis hat. 

Well, it won’ be long fo’ de breck ub day; 

An’ de possum, showly, he kyant git ’stray, 

So den I’ll clime dat little black-gum tree; 

Dat pine’s too full ub grapevines futto see. 

De day broke clare, an’ up’n de tree I clum, 

An’ in dem grapevines, twixt de pine an’ gum, 

A ressin ub his’self, yaller, slick an’ fat, 

Da lay uh gre’t big ornry Thormas cat! 

I tuck uh match an’ lit de varmint’s tail, 

An’ when he jump po’ Romp an’ Fred dey wail; 

Dat yaller Thormas cat, on fire, ub cose, 

Dey tuck to be uh red-hot, flamin’ ghose! 

Romp ain’ no use fuh night dog any mo’, 

An’ neber ter de swamp he wants ter go; 

An’ when he comes uh cross uh wile grapevine 
He al’ays gits relarmed an’ ’gins ter growl an’ whine. 


Scipio Jones. 


[ 45 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Ef Romp had bin ub houn’ blood, stid ub cur, 
He’d know’d de difference in de scent ub fur. 

So arfter dis I wants uh thorrybred; 

When dey speaks up’n uh tre$ you ain’ misled. 

But if I steals de finis’ thorrybred 

Da ain’ no use ub praisin’ him ter Fred — 

He’s jined de chuch. Dat yaller Thormas cat 
He tho’t uh ghose is all de cause ub dat. 

I ’gin ter think mehsef dat cat uh witch, 

Fuh in de swamp ef it is dark ez pitch, 

An he cum out! de branch it looks so bright 
De brabest niggah’s obercome wid fright. 

I ’spises cats, an’ fuh dem hab no use, 

But it’s mos’ time I’d ended wid uh buse, 

Fuh when I think erboutin’ “±tomps mustake” 
Dis haid ub mine cummences soon ter ache. 


C 46 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


LITTLE BILLY’S PUMPKIN. 


Hayland Meadow was some ten miles in length, and 
on the upper half, used for growing timothy and for 
grazing, here and there stood aristocratic-looking 
trees — poplar, black-walnut, majestic oaks, imposing 
and graceful elms. The lower half was thickly 
wooded with smaller trees of many varieties, among 
which flourished the persimmon. Nature had with 
generous hands festooned many of the trees with wild 
grapevines, and when these were in bloom and twi- 
light dews fell upon their blossoms, they filled that 
meadow with a delicious fragrance, sweet enough for 
Eden; every dewdrop in the dell seemed perfumed. 

Through this vale, over mossy stones and snowy 
pebbles, chattered and meandered a crystal creek 
which joined other streams and emptied at Hayland 
marsh into Miles River. 

The woodcock nested there, and in warm June days 
dozed under the shade of the fine old trees; and there 
the oriole sang a lullaby to her hanging cradle that 
rocked in the wind. 

The tranquilness of the place was never disturbed 
save by the canticles of song birds and the almost 


[ 47 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


nightly baying of some coon dog, for until of late 
the darkies never thought of going anywhere else 
to put up coons or ’possums than “Playlan’ ” Branch, 
as they called it 

Little Billy was not pious, and, if he knew his pray- 
ers, never said them. He doted on all sorts of sports, 
and, though a poor shot, entered all the turkey-shoot- 
ing contests Thanksgiving Day. He chewed the best 
tobacco, danced with the dancers, played the banjo 
and jewsharp, always had a jug of molasses, a pair of 
gum boots, fiddle-strings and fiddle — all purchased 
with his coon, ’possum and muskrat money. 

Scipio Jones’ experience had pretty well frightened 
off Miles Biver Heck hunters (see “Romp’s Mus- 
take”), but of late darkies from Queen Anne’s and 
Caroline Counties had been hunting Hayland Branch, 
and Billy became jealous, wanting to be the only 
hunter, and sought to get his Mars Pinckney, who 
owned the meadow, to help him ; and his success was 
more than he anticipated. 

“Romp’s Mustake” had been talked about until the 
story had so grown that most of the darkies thought 
the cat a ghost, and among the converts was Scip’ 
Jones. The matter was discussed at bush meetings, 
corn-huskings and cake-walks; so after the christen- 
ing of Mollie Jones’ son (Scipio Jonas Jones) at Zion 
Church, John Poney, Uncle Stephen Demby and 


[ 48 ] 



MARS PINCKNEY WHEN A ROY 





Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss . 

Scip’ Jones were appointed to investigate Hayland 
Branch. 

Billy was at the christening, of course, and wanted 
the ghost story to flourish, as it kept Talbot coon hunt- 
ers from the branch. So he told his Mars Pinckney 
that “niggahs cum fum Kyarline an’ Queen Anne’s 
County ter hunt dat mash an’ branch, an’ ’skusin’ 
de Talbot hunters, he wouldn’ be s’prised ef dey som’ 
time, when dey hongry, teck de oysters fum de cove;” 
(Billy did) — “an’, young Marster, won’ you qualify 
me ter say dat de branch hanted pow’ful ?” 

His Mars’ Pinckney said with sternness: “Billy, 
that is not the truth ! I want, however, to keep rogues 
and intruders out, and I will make and give you some- 
thing that will scare every nigger out of my meadow 
from this day forward forevermore.” 

So his Mars' Pinckney, full of youth and deviltry, 
took a big pumpkin, cut a hole through the top and 
bottom, and through the latter pushed a tallow candle 
with a big wick. He cut eyeholes and a mouth, and, 
at Billy’s suggestion, tacked on a medium-sized 
cucumber for a nose, and on the sides or cheeks of the 
pumpkin, put sheepskin for whiskers, as Billy said, 
“ter meek hit look sassy;” and then a grapevine was 
trimmed up and tied through the top, and Billy was 
instructed what to do. 

Parson Phil Demby was to baptize some sisters 

[ 49 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

the next day — Sunday — and Billy thought that a 
good time to consummate his plans. 

It was very cold. The hoys were skating, and the 
sisters were dipped where the farmers had been cut- 
ting ice the day before. When Tilly Mink was 
shoved under she had one of her pockets full of 
apples. The water shocked her so, she immediately 
commenced to throw her arms around, pawed the 
bottom, pawed Parson Demby overturned an’ 
thoroughly drenched him (it was an honest dip) and 
pawed and tore the pocketful of apples; and when 
Little Billy saw the apples come popping up, bobbing 
like net-corks, and the Parson’s haste to get on dry 
land, he called out : 

“Jes’ gib huh ’nubba dip, Pawson Demby; huh sins 
is cummin’ up fum huh in clustahs!” 

The negroes on the shore thought salvation at last 
had struck Billy, and, the immersion over, they 
crowded about him. 

Billy in a moment embraced his opportunity, and 
after a few remarks about the cold, wanted to know 
where he could buy another coon dog; expatiated 
upon the coon and ’possum tracks he had recently 
seen in Hayland meadows, and further said, ap- 
parently unconcerned : 

“I kyant ondastan why dey don’ hunt dat branch 
mo’. Ef’n I had uh nubba dog (Jasper is foot-sore, an’ 


[ 50 ] 



Jes’ gib huh an-nubba dip, Pawson Demby, huh sins is cummin 
up fum bub in clusters! 



















































































• 

























































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


I gwine ter git one), I’d pestah dat lubly branch when 
ebnin’ cum, an’ ornless hit snow er rain, I’d hunt ev’y 
parf in it.” 

Then and there the witch committee arranged for 
a hunt the next night. They asked Billy to go, but “he 
wuz gwine ter Kyarline County futto buy uh dog.” 

The moon was new and went down about 11 
o’clock, and Billy calculated they would be along 
about that hour. So, holding the grapevine in his 
hand, he climbed a witch-elm tree, threw the vine 
over its slippery limb, rested his pumpkin-face on the 
ground, and whilst he was “meddowtatin’ ” he heard 
the voice of Scipio say to his thoroughbred hound : 

“Put ’im up, Koahy!” and later, “I like de stile 
an’ rovin’ ub dat dog, don’ you, Uncle Stephen?” 

Uncle Stephen said, “Monstus fine ! Carry 
hissef jes’ like uh houn’ I hunted over lars’ wintah 
in Kyarline County dat wuz stole fum de man dat los’ 
him; an’ I heah him say he hope dat dog tree nuffin 
fuh de pusson dat stole him ’ceppin’ ghos’es, witches 
an’ sperrits, an’ ef’n he ebba ketch him, dis uth wud 
trimble when he twiss he neck.” 

Scip’s eyes began to feel too big — his roguery re- 
buked him; Koahy was the stolen dog. But his 
conscience was momentarily relieved by Koahy’s giv- 
ing tongue, and was tickled and delighted when 
Uncle Stephen said: 


[ 51 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss . 


“Dat’s uh coon, an’ dat’s uh qualified coon dog; 
uh sweetah tongue I ain’ heahd sence Mars’ Mckey’s 
Jerry-Myah died, name arfter a profit; an’ he wuz a 
profit, too.” 

By this time they were all in a brisk trot, Uncle 
Stephen grumbling about the pace and declaring he 
could not keep up. 

The witch committee were about one hundred and 
fifty yards from Billy, and when he saw the dog some 
thirty yards off, and hunting towards him, he quickly 
lit the tallow candle and slowly pulled the pumpkin 
face a few feet from the ground. Noahy saw it in 
a moment, retreated and yelped like a wild dog. All 
was consternation, and all hearts went pitapat. Pres- 
ently Uncle Stephen, who had the most courage, 
said: 

“ ’Pears ter me dat dog cum ’long wid som’ var- 
ment he ain’ ’quainted wid. I had a composation 
yistiddy week wid uh coon hunter I’s knowed fuh uh 
long time, an’ he say dogs dat ain’ ris on de watah 
al’ays gits skeered de fus’ time dey see pompusses an’ 
shirks playin’ on de ribber sho’.” 

Scipio caressed the dog with trembling hands, and 
said : 

“I don’ ondastan’ de ’spression ub dis dog. Otters 
is ornpropper varments ter projic’ wid; maybe he 
s’prised a sleepin’ otter, an’ de otter smack him, an’ 


[ 52 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


den babtiz him in de creek tell he mos’ drown. Dey 
will do it! ’Specially on de new moon.” 

John Poney said : “De dog mus’ nh scent dat witch 
Scipio bu’n de tail ub, sted killin’. Hit wnz 
ornrichious not ter kill dat witch, an’ de fus’ ting 
we know, de witch will hab young uns, an’ den dis 
branch will hab ter be gib up, kase uh branch full ub 
scan’lous witches is wuss’n uh woods full ub sperrits.” 

Scipio Jones (affrighted): “Don’ talk dat way, 
Brer Poney.” 

By this time Billy had slowly pulled his pumpkin 
face some twenty feet from the ground, and as the 
witch-elm bow was gently moved by the breeze, it 
gave the pumpkin face such a weird look that even 
Billy got lonesome. Uncle Stephen, less timid and 
more observant, though behind, was the first to see 
the pumpkin face. With a gasp, and dropping quickly 
on his knees, he wailed : 

“Ef’n you is a ghos’, Mars’ Ghos’, I ’spec you is 
uh ghos’, an’ ef’n you is uh witch, my Mistis Witch, 
I ’spec you is uh witch! I nebber sed nuffin ergin 
ghos’es an’ witches in meh life, an’ Ps 70 year ole — 
an’ nebber see an’ bleebe in witches an’ ghos’es; but 
I bleebe now, ’fo’ de Lawd, I do! an’ now I ondastan’ 
why dis branch so full ub witch-elm an’ witch-hazel 
trees.” 

Just then Billy gave his grapevine a gentle pull, 
[53] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

bobbed the pumpkin, and Uncle Stephen, more 
frightened than ever, exclaimed in great humility : 

“0 Lawd, ’fen’ Stephen, an’ let he salbation resis’ 
dat witch, an’ de witch resis’ he salbation, an’ keep 
de witch fum leadin’ po’ Stephen ter” 

“Is you got de kramps, Uncle Stephen?” half 
frantically exclaimed Scip’. Uncle Stephen pointed 
his trembling hands at the witch-elm tree, and Scipio 
and John saw the pumpkin face. 

A few minutes thereafter Uncle Stephen was trot- 
ting homeward alone — tired, dejected and scared 
almost out of his senses, and every now and then 
ejaculating, as he stumbled and trotted along: 

“Dat orn’ry niggah, Scipio Jones, done breck up 
coon huntin’ in dis branch!” 

Scipio and John ran until they came to a haystack 
some two miles away, in which they made a hole and 
hid themselves until daylight, when Scipio took 
Uoahy back to his owner. 

On Sunday next Parson Demby gave notice “Dat 
Scipio Jones had got salbation in he hyart, an’ wud 
be babtiz’ Sunday cummin’.” 

There was a great difference of opinion among the 
committee as to the appearance of the witch, and this 
was their testimony: 

Scip’ thought “Hit wuz erboutin ez big ez uh 
cow, an’ had hohns ez long ez uh fencerail.” 


[ 54 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


John Poney thought “Hit wuz ’boutin de size ub 
uh shock nb wheat, wid eyes ’bout de size ub buckets, 
an’ uh mouf ’bout ez big ez uh shirk’s.” 

Uncle Stephen said he “Wuz sho’ de face wuz ’boutin 
ez big ez uh barrel, an’ melted lead run fum he nose, 
an’ pusspuration ub fire drapped fum all ober he face, 
an’ ebbry time de win’ blow his eyes wink an’ his 
mouf larf.” 

A few days after the ghost investigation Little Billy 
went over to the quarters of Uncle Stephen to hear 
the news, and found the old man putting his little 
grandchild to sleep and singing: 

Sooky licked de ladle, 

An’ de baby rocked de cradle. 

Eock 

Billy interrupted him, saying: “Howdy, Uncle 
Stephen ?” 

The old man was glad to see him, nervous and 
startled, too, for he had not gotten over his witch 
fright. 

“Po’ly, Billy, ve’y po’ly; pow’ful mis’ry in meh 
back an’ legs.” 

Billy said, in an innocent sort of way: “I jes’ 
bought fum Kent County de fines’ kin’ ub coon dog 
— cross ’tween uh houn’ an’ rat-tan-terrier — an’ I 
drap in ter arsk ef’n you won’ teck uh hunt wid me 


[ 55 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


in Hay Ian’ Branch to-night. Tell me hit’s full ub 
coons, an’ uh hunt mout do yo’ back good.” 

Uncle Stephen gave Billy a solemn, stern look and 
said : “I wan’ nuffin ter do wid coons, ’possums er 
’coon dogs. Scip’ Jones an’ John Poney dey bof 
exerted me. I’s los’ meh tase fuh night hun’in’ ; an’ 
when you heah de ’po’t ub de witch committee, you 
will sell yo’ dog, kase when dat ’po’t gits knowed, da 
won’ be no use fuh coon dogs, leas’ wise ’roun’ heah. 
I had uh talk wid Caesar Butler yistiddy, an’ he say : 
Tie sho’ dat Haylan’ Branch witch tuck an’ stole he 
’possum fum de ashes lars’ fall, an’ bin stealin’ he 
oystus all wintah.’ How de wexin’ quession is, What 
we gwine ter do ? Hit wud not s’prise me ef ’n I move 
fum de county.” 

“Uncle Stephen, what wuz de ’port ub de witch 
committee ?” 

“Well, dey met lars’ night over Bennett Tumlin- 
son’s wheelwright shop. Pawson Demby wuz chusen 
ter teck de cheah. Hen we hed uh long composation 
an’ hit wuz ’cided dat ghos’es may lib in cows’ hohns, 
but witches don’ — leas’wise de breed dat’s in Haylan’ 
Branch. We also ’cide dat ef’n all de cowhohns in 
Miles Bibber Heck wuz made inter one hohn, hit wud 
be too small fuh de witch ub Haylan’ Branch ter ’pose 
in. Hit wuz also ’eluded dat de sperrit in Haylan’ 
Branch wuz uh witch, kase hit hab whiskuhs, an’ 


[ 56 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ghos’es don’ hab whiskuhs. Pawson Demby say be 
sho’ bit’s de same breed ub witches dat’s spok’ ub in 
Samuel de Pus’, and dat we mus’ stop coon hun’in’, 
bintimate Saul, an’ all go ter witch hun’in’ an’ witch 
killin’. Dat de Bible ’splicitly spressify in de book 
ub Ex-odus: Thou shal’ not suffah ub witch ter lib.’ 
Pawson Demby mus’ be mustakin’. Hit kyant be de 
same breed ub witches Saul kilt, an’ ef’n dey is, dey’s 
grown monstus since dem days; an’ I bleebe ’sted 
ub de brudders ub Zion Chuch ’stroyin’ de witches, de 
witches will ’stroy de brudders. Talk ’bout babtizin’ 
in de presence ub shirks ! I’d rudder sleep wid shirks 
dan see dat witch ergin. Hits de lars’ time I’s gwine 
on any committee ! Mo’n dat, I’s made up meh min’ 
ter jine uh chuch dat don’ ’low coon huntin’, an dat 
chuch is de Presbyters.” 

After the war Billy, old and dispirited, drifted to 
a small town in Maryland. His independence, quaint 
humor (narrations and mirations) soon attached the 
townspeople to him, who kept him in tobacco, clothed 
and made him comfortable. Billy never tired of 
expatiating upon his old home, haunts, ole Miss and 
ole Mars. It was his nature to exaggerate, and he told 
about the fo’-in-hands he drove (he never drove) until 
it got to be a joke; and they would tease him and say 
they had heard he only drove mules and steers, which 


[ 57 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


made him furious, and he would brandish his cane at 
his accusers. 

When Mr. Cleveland was first elected President 
Billy was very much disturbed. He thought all the 
negroes would be sold into slavery, and his loquacious- 
ness and solicitude suggested the following joke, 
which was played upon him to the amusement of the 
township : 

At several places in the town, to which Billy’s at- 
tention was called, printed notices were tacked up 
that on a certain day all negroes in Maryland would 
be sold to the highest bidder. When Billy saw it, he 
swore lustily, and on the day of sale he was made to 
stand on a goodsbox, and cried to the highest bidder. 
It was a very funny sight. Billy said: “Ef’n ole 
Mars, er Miss Henrietta wuz erlive dey’d 
kill ebery lars’ one ub you.” 

The spectators walked around him, looked in his 
mouth feigning to tell his age, and praised his noble 
appearance. Billy looked scornfully at the laboring 
people, some of whom had been instructed to bid on 
him, and graciously at the gentry present. A pre- 
tended buyer asked if he belonged to the church. 

Billy said : “I don’ ’long ter no chuch, an’ I ain’ 
gwine ter jine, an’ gib up meh fiddle an’ banjo.” 

Just then some one looked him over and said: 
“Splendid, honest face ! I will give $5,000 for him.” 


[ 58 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Billy said, with great pomposity : “I always knewed 
uh quality niggah, an’ I’s glad ter he uh slabe, ef ’n uh 
geinman buy me. I tole de niggahs ef’n dey wote de 
Dimcrat ticket dey’d all be sol’ ergin, but dey sech 
ornry fools.” 

Finally a man said $5,000 was nothing for him; 
he would give $10,000. Whereupon a carpenter 
nailing shingles on a roof within earshot of the sale, 
knowing Billy’s weakness for talking about his ole 
master’s horses, and thinking to draw him out and 
please him, asked: “Can Billy drive a carriage?” 
Whereupon Billy broke up the sale by saying : “What 
in de h — 1 you wan’ ter know fuh ? You nebba own 
uh kerridge.” 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


SERMON.* 


Befo’ preachin’ I gib notice dat Miss Henrietta 
gwine ter gib nh cake-walk Chris’mus night ter all de 
serbents ’ceppin’ Scipio Jones. Dar will also be uh 
feas’ in de brick kitchen arfter de walk. De ’fresh- 
ments will be nh cake ub figs, two clustahs ub resins, 
liarf bushel ub kisses, pancakes, an’ uh keg ub molasses. 
Some sistuh at de rebate ax Aunt Phillis how she 
cook pancakes. She ’ques’ me ter say: “Three eggs 
bet up light, wid uh pint ub milk an’ uh pint ub 
flower, den add uh tablespoonful ub butter an’ lard, 
den cook, de mo’ carelesser de better. 

All de chillun dat got bladders hog killin’ time an’ 
kep’ ’em, kin bus’ ’em Chris’mus night arfter de cake- 
walk. 


* Dr. John P. Durbin, one of the most eloquent of American 
orators, was able to speak to a child with such beauty of expres- 
sion and propriety of enunciation that a company of educated la- 
dies and gentlemen were entranced. Conversation was sus- 
pended and regret felt when the doctor turned from the delighted 
child to the rest of the company. In an earlier period, when en- 
feebled voice compelled him to suspend public efforts, he had 
gone from cabin to cabin among the negroes on the plantations 
of Kentucky, conversing with them on religion, and claimed that 
by this process he acquired his marvelously simple style. 

Extemporaneous Oratory, Buckley, p. 94. 


[ 60 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

Mollie Jones will also hab her two chillun chrissin. 
She qualify me futto say de names chusin will he 
Scipio Jonas Jones an’ Nimrod. 

De Election lars 7 Sunday wuz 83 cents. Aunt 
Phillis wuz sick wid de rumatiz an’ wan 7 heah. She 
’ques’ me ter gib notice when she cum she will gib uh 
levy — dat will make 95^ cents. 

De deacons has 7 cided ter buy wid it, de new strain 
ub watermillion seeds, call de Annarandal Sweets. 

Dey will be put in little packs, an 7 straws will be 
drawed fuh de packs. 

Da will be uh fes-ti-val in de meetin 7 house nex 7 
monf. De money made will be tuck ter buy uh 
kyarpet to go 7 roun 7 de pulpit. Some ub de brudders 
fum Kyarline has promis 7 twelve gourds, uh new kine 
wid curled handles, one bushel ub sweet potatar slips, 
eight 7 possums, an 7 fo 7 new mus’rat gums. 

I am charm ter say de deacons has secur’d fum 
Mr. Plummer fuh 25 cents uh monf de priblig ub bab- 
tizin 7 in de Wye Mills dam, 7 ceppin in de winter, jes’ 
befo 7 dey cut ice. 

You will find meh tex 7 in de 63 Sam, 6 Vus, writ 
by King Dabid when he wuz in de wilderness ub Juda 
an 7 hidin 7 hissef in de mountain ub Zip. 

“When I recommember de 7 pon meh bed, an 7 med- 
dowtate on de in de night watches. 77 

Sistus, brudders an 7 little chillun, we might fill dis 


[ 61 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


chuck full ub some ub Mars ETickey’s craps, cawn, 
oats, wheat, hay, fodder, an’ buckwheat, an’ fill de 
corners wid spider’s webs, wasp nesses, mouse beds an’ 
sich like, hab de chuch jam full, an’ ubcose when it 
full it kyant be any fuller, den dey wud hab ter go 
ter de bawn ; but dat what dey call mem’ry require no 
bawn. It can be packed jes’ like dis chuch, ev’y crack 
filled, ev’y little hole chinked, an’ yit da wud be plenty 
ub room. 

Ef’n yo’ mem’ry wuz chock full ub all de chunes in 
de Zion hymbook, an’ uh camp meetin’ cum wid 500 
new hyms, dat mem’ry wud right straight meek uh 
place fuh dem chunes an’ teck ’em in widout crowd- 
in’ anything. 

Ef’n de Angel Gabrul wuz ter meet you, an’ gib 
you ’struction fuh uh week, an’ say : “I miricle you ter 
recommember all dis Scriptur’,” dat strange thing 
called mem’ry wud in uh moment make room, de mos’ 
triflin’ thing wud not be ’sturbed. Oh! it’s uh pow’- 
ful thing, mem’ry. “When I recommember de ’pon 
meh bed” — dat’s de application. What wud we do 
widoutin mem’ry? 

S’pose, fuh instinct, de tremlin’ stars fogot ter cum 
out ter keep deah faithful watch ; s’pose de moon fogot 
de stars an’ lay uh sleep fuh six months. But wus- 
sa still, s’pose de sun fogot de sunrise, sunset an’ 
twilight, an’ as de Bible say, “Darknes’ brooded ober 


[ 62 ] 


MARS PINCKNEY’S HOME, “FAUSLEY. 





































































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


de deep/’ Mars Pinckney say, “No wegetables an’ 
plants wud grow, ’ceppin pisin ones; de trees wud all 
die, da wnd be no birds singin’ ’ceppin de martin- 
gales an’ hooppo-wills, no bees hummin’, no flowers 
bloomin’, no playful colts an’ skippin’ lam’s — it wud 
be like de lars’ day full sinnahs.” But I heab some- 
body cummin’ long talkin’ ter hissef. It’s mem’ry, 
an’ be meek de stars say: “I recommember an’ lub 
de young moon, de barf moon an’ de baryes’ moon. 
Den de man in de moon say, “ ’Cose you do; kase I am 
de crown an’ you de stars in it.” Den de moon say, “I 
recommember de ribbers, coves, creeks, all de beases 
ub de field, all de fisbes dat keep quiet in de day but 
leap an’ play in meb meller light, an’ I rides th’oo de 
clowds mo’ prowder dan King Solomon did wid bis 
prancin’ race bosses an’ chariots in Egyp’ lan’ co’tin’ 
Phareo’s daughter; kase I is so gran’ I am bleege 
ter be noble, fub I hab millions ub trees, ribbers, 
creeks, ribbulets, fruits an’ flowers — all de beases ub 
de field ter burbol, but dey hab only one moon ter 
make mirations erboutin, so I am de gran’ oberseer ub 
de night.” 

Den beah cum de sun creepin’ up, sorter playin’ 
bide an’ seek wid de mawnin’, an’ say ter de dawn, 
“Recommember me! Recommember me!” Den de 
dawn put bis arms roun’ de yeartb an’ you beab de 
sweet jewdraps say ter de flowers, trees an’ water- 


[ 63 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


million blossoms, “Good bye;” an’ right ’way de birds 
sip de jewdraps jes’ befo’ dey melt, ter wet deah 
th’oats full de lars’ mawnin’. Hallaluja, dey’r gwine 
ter sing. 

Bimeby de sunbeams cummenc’ ter play an’ say, “I 
recommember uh dark place; I will drap in an’ meek 
it bright,” an’ de sweet potater wines, cucumber wines, 
all de wegetables, fruits, flowers, craps an’ grasses is 
kiss’ an’ caress’ by dem sunbeams. 

Ah, sistus an’ chillun, I cud preach uh monf 
boutin dat sun, but I mus’ pars on an’ say befo’ I in- 
clude recommembrance, dat we kin all be sunbeams; 
we kin hab uh brighter light in our bresses dan de sun- 
light, ef’n we recommember what babtism will do, 
feas’ our hyarts on de ripe fruit ub salbation, hab on 
our feet de golden slippas ub faith, an’ shoostrings ub 
justify cation. Den de sunlight ub de c’lestial home 
will flud our souls ez we sing an’ pray ter be at de 
lars’ day ’mong de cherupins an’ serupins dat dances — 
no, not dances — dat shouts by de light ub de sun, 
moon an’ stars, on de c’lestial sho’. 

We will now teck de nex’ application ub meh tex’, 
“Meddowtate on dee in de night watches.” 

Brudderin, all nature is uh meddowtationist; dat is, 
all satisfied nature. 

Did you eber think erboutin it? 

Now, teck fus’ uh cow, when she gits plenty ub 


[ 64 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

grass, lays down an’ chaws huh cud, blinks, winks 
huh eyes an’ meddowtates, an 7 ef’n she is not uh 
stripper, 1 specks she thinks how nice it will be when 
somebody milks huh gre’t big bag, so full ub milk dat 
it will ’stress huh befo’ long ef’n it’s not stripped. 

Uh settin’ hen is uh gre’t muser (I wan’ ter ’splain 
dat what dey call meddowtatin’ in de Bible days, dey 
call musin’ in dese days, an’ what dey call damsels 
in Bible days, we call ladies in dese days). Yes! uh 
settin’ hen is uh gre’t meddowtater, prob’ly one ub 
de gre’tes’. Dey sets twenty-one days, an’ dey 
say ter git uh good hatchin’ dey should be 
sot on twenty-one eggs, so as ter ’low huh 
one egg uh day ter muse on. ’Cose she thinks 
erboutin what de diffunt color ub de chicks will be, 
how many will be roostus, how many hens, how many 
will be black legs, specklelegs, yaller legs, an’ how 
many good layers. Den she gib uh little cackle, which 
is larfin’ ’mong fowls, an’ say ter huhsef : “Heah cum 
ole Miss Osman, de hous’keeper, de keys jinglin’ same 
ez bells fum huh ap’on strings, lookin’ ergin fuh dat 
speckle hen, settin’ an’ musin’ un’er de steps right at 
de do’.” 

But, brudderin, de gre’tes’ meddowtaters is de ’cend- 
ents ub Mars Adam an’ Miss Ebe, an’ ’mong de la- 
dies in de Bible, I s’pose Miss Rachel, de mudder ub 
some ub de Petracks, wuz de slyis’ meddowtater, an’ 


'[ 65 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


de mos’ ’spected, kase Uncle Reubin say she hab de 
finis’ toom, de biggist chariot, an’ mos’ moners ub any 
ooman de Bible speak ub. When Jacob fus’ met huh 
at de well she wuz musin’; dat is, huh ’flections wuz 
deep like de well. She look so peart, sweet, an’ sad-like, 
de narration say, dat Jacob wep’. How-some-eber, Ja- 
cob wuz uh unsuspectin’ shepherd, an’ wuz smut ’me- 
jately by Miss Rachel’s cunnin’ lubliness. Mo’n dat, 
Miss Rachel had bin ris’ by de qual’ty, an’ knew’d how 
ter look sorf-eyed an’ sly, jes’ like Miss Henrietta use 
ter look when she feel sassy; ’sides, Miss Rachel cum 
outin’ uh musin’ f ambly. Her pa, Mars Laban, meddow- 
tate (so de Bible say) seven year befo’ he gib Miss Ra- 
chel ter Jacob, an’ he made uh mustake den. kase 
Jacob soon tu’n ornry, an’ hab fo’ wives. 

One ub de gre’tes’ meddowtaters mention ’mong de 
men in de Bible, is spoke ub in de fus’ book ub clover. 

Rasmus Jasper Jemes: Pawson Demby, da ain’ 
no book ub clover in de Bible. 

Did I say clover, Rasmus? Well, den, I meant de 
fus’ book ub Timothy. Ps bin mowin’ grass all de 
week, an’ I got ’fuse erbout de name. 

But I mus’ hurry on to de gre’tes’ meddowtater in 
de Bible, de one dat writ de ’squisit’ tex’ I preach fum, 
King Dabid! I ain’ bin able ter fin’ it in de Bible, 
but I think he mus’ uh bin close kin ter Hoahy, kase 
he had mos’ ez much charm ober beases, an’ he had uh 


[ 66 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


arm ub steal. Jes’ think ub dat! It wuz his lef’ arm. 
De Bible don’ say what his right arm made ub, but I 
’specks it wuz made ub steal er brass, kase he kotch de 
lion by de beard wid his lef’ han’, smut an’ kilt him 
wid his right han’. Now, Sampson kilt uh lion, but 
it wuz uh young one. Little Dabid mus’ uh bin think- 
in’ ’bout dem lions when he writ, “Meh hyart wuz hot 
widin me; when I wuz musin’ de fire burned.” Well, 
it cum ter pars dat de Lawd say unter Samuel de fus’, 
“I wan’ uh king;” an’ Samuel de fus’ say, “I no uh 
man named Obid, dat’s got some monstus fine sons, 
but Obid he ain’ no ’count kase he fogot his son name 
Jesse; but it turn out all fuh de bes’, kase Jesse got 
’fended, run ’way, an’ merried what dey call in dem 
days uh damsel, an’ ris uh fine lot ub sons. 

While Samuel wuz musin’ erbout deah quare 
names, who should cum ’long but Jesse, deah pa. So 
Samuel say, “Wha you gwine ?” An’ Jesse say, “Ter 
help Saul ter ’noint meh youngis’ son.” An’ Saul 
meek uh ’miration erbout his oldes’ boys, an’ say, 
“How many chillun you got, anyway?” An’ Jesse 
say, “Six sons, an’ de youngis’ uh sweet boy name Da- 
bid, fair ub eyes, lubly coun’nance, an’ uh monstus 
cunnin’ hyarp player. I s’pose he’s meh favorite son, 
kase he so bad; dat’s why I wan’ you ter ’noint him.” 
An’ Saul say, “Wha is he? I will ’noint him an’ 
meek him uh king.” Jesse wuz so s’prise he almos’ 


[ 67 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

had uh spavin, an’ say, “Dat chile nuffin hut uh boy, 
an’ you kyant think how bad he is. Mo’n dat, I kyant 
well spare him ; he mines de sheep, sells de hides ub de 
beases; an’ ’tain’ nuffin fuh him ter kill uh ox kyart 
load uh week, ub lions, bars and striped tigers. 

Belubbed, Jesse didn’ wan’ ter say anything ergin 
his son, but de fac’ is, dat boy spent mos’ ub his time 
playin’ de hyarp wid uh cunnin’ arm an’ han’ ub steal, 
an’ wussa yit, young ez he wuz, meddowtatin’ an’ 
longin’ fuh Phareo’s daughter an’ other damsels. 

J esse bu’nt insects erroun’ hissef, an’ ’pon ’flection 
’cided ter let he son be uh king, an’ git salbation. 

Befo’ I go any fudder wid dis King Dabid narra- 
tion I wan’ ter say ter de chillun in de chuch, you 
don’ hab ter be so strong ter de looks ter be gran’. De 
feebles’ an’ de baddes’ chile in dis chuch may meek 
de strongis’ man an’ de bes’ Babtis’ preacher. 

King Dabid wuz tuck fuh uh king, tho’ he wuz de 
younges’ an’ de feebles’ ub dem boys, wid uh lubly 
face an’ long curls, jes’ de way Miss Henrietta’s use’ 
ter grow — but heah is de application : 

De Lawd look in de hyart ub little Dabid; he saw 
brabery, an’ de future writer ub Sams; so he right 
way gib him uh arm ub steal an’ meek him king ! 

Will he meek you uh king? 

Yas; de Lawd will gib you uh erligious arm ub 
steal, meek ebery chile in dis chuch uh king in his 


[ 68 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

army ub salbation, an’ mebbe uh Sams writer, ef’n 
you intimate little Dabid. 

Well, arfter dis’ gression, I cum ter de time when 
Dabid grow up, hab uh beard, git mad wid Saul an’ 
de Flistines, an’ meek his barbers cut orf one side ub 
de Flistines’ whiskus ter tell dem in battle fum his sol- 
diers ; so when Goliar heah tell ub it he larf , stroke he 
beard, an’ say : “He nuffin’ but uh sassy boy.” 

How, it cum ter pars when King Dabid fine out 
how Goliar talk erbout him, he den an’ da meddowtate 
in de night watches how he kill Goliar, an’ s’prisin’ 
ter say, he ’eluded ter kill him wid uh stone. So he 
jump fum his chariot, tuck fum uh brook five stones, 
put ’em in his sheppard bag, an’ in his han’ ub steal 
he had uh sling. When Goliar saw him, de Bible say, 
“He disdain him kase he wuz but uh striplin’ ” an’ he 
tole him ef’n he totch him “he wud gib his flesh ter 
de fowls ub de air (cose dey mus’ uh bin buzzards), an’ 
ter de beases ub de field.” 

Goliar look so much biggah dan de cunnin’ little 
hyarp player, ’magin’ dat he stop futto meddowtate, 
an’ ter git his steal arm wuckin’. He put his han’ in 
his sheep bag, tuck out uh stone, an’ when Goliar wuz 
erboutin fo’ hunard yards orf he sling dat stone, 
not ’speckin’ ter hit him de fus’ sling; but bless yo’ 
souls, dat stone tuck de hole top uh he haid orf — ez 
de Injuns say, “scalped him.” Den Dabid run, stood 


[ 69 ] 


Ole Mars an > Ole Miss. 


on Goliar, cut de res’ ub he haid orf, hurray an’ shout, 
when his sharpshooters cum up an’ run de army ub 
Goliar to deah tents. 

De nex’ day de man dat King Dabid wuz feared ub, 
wuz feared ub King Dabid, fuh it almos’ tuck Dabid’s 
bref when Saul cum wid uh white flag an’ say : 

“I is tuck Goliar’s place; you had better s’render; 
ef’n you will I will gib you meh daughter.” 

David meddowtate, shuck Saul’s han’, tuck his 
daughter, had huh sant ter his tent, an’ as de Bible 
say, “Behabe hissef wisely.” When King Dabid 
look good at Saul an’ think how small he wuz ter Go- 
liar, he felt peart, spunky, an’ say, “Ef’n you cud see 
de mules, jackasses, chariots, an’ j ablins dat I hab got 
you wudn’ talk dat way” (er words signifyin’ dat). 

Brudderin, Saul’s temper ris, he throw’d one ub 
dem j ablins at him, which Dabid dodge, run home ter 
his damsel, tole huh erboutin his father-in-law. JSTow, 
what did dat ’stress damsel say? She say, “You ain’ 
heahd de wus yit. Pappy sant me word dat when you 
teck yo’ robe orf, go ter baid, an’ fall uh sleep, futto 
let him no; dat den he will cum an’ ’sasinate you. 
Dat’s what I merried you fuh, but you got sech win- 
nin’ ways, you sech uh lion killer, hab sech strong 
uhms, look so lubly when you play de hyarp, dat you 
hab conjur me, an’ I lub you jam down ter de roots 
ub meh soul. Dey shan’t ’sasinate you; so jine yo’ 


[ 70 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


army, I will put uh scarecrow in de baid, an’ while he 
rejoice an’ stab de baid you kin be marchin’ on his 
army.” 

* Bimeby Saul cum ’long, stole in de room, stab dat 
scarecrow all ter smash; but jes’ den he heah de ar- 
til’ry ub Dabid. So he run ter his army, an’ walk 
ober uh hunard acre field full ub kilt Flistines, an’ 
saw de res’ ub his army flyin’, leabin’ all deah camels 
an’ jackasses. 

Saul had de biggist army, kase dat night ’emits cum 
fum Zip, an’ de nex’ day dey met ergin, fit and skir- 
mish, skirmish an’ fit, till bof armies got ve’y tired. 

Saul, he ’gin ter meddowtate, an’ think King Dabid 
uh witch, kase he sho’ he kilt him in baid, so he got 
pow’ful skerd, ’fraid ub King Dabid — too skerd futto 
wait till de night watches ter meddowtate ; so he med- 
dowtate all day, an’ dat night he made spittoon 
bridges, tuck his army ’cross de ribber, so he cud 
’emit fuh jackasses an’ camels, ez da wan’ none lef’ 
’ceppin’ sixteen white asses dat pull his chariot, so he 
cummenc’ ter mortify de place, sant his staff futto look 
fuh uh drobe ub asses, an’ his sutler say, “We kyant 
fine dem asses.” 

Saul say, “I kin fine dat drobe; so he meek bleebe 
he look fuh de asses, but all de time he wuz ’rangin’ 
fer ezert. (Meh eyes is so bad I kyant wear meh specks, 
so I got Uncle Reubin ter read dis gran’ narration ter 


* Samuel i, 19. 


[ 71 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


me lars 7 week ; so I is preachin 7 ezactlyde way de Bible 
say.) Well, Saul say ter Jonah, his spittoon ober- 
seer, “King Dabid is so cute an 7 cunnin 7 I 7 s feared he 
may hab one ub dem torpeders un 7 er dis mountain 
f utto blow us up ; daf o 7 1 am gwine ter ezert, an 7 wan 7 
you ter go wid me 7 cross de ribber in one ub dese spit- 
toon bridges ter see Kang Dabid. 

Jonah say he lub King Dabid, hab de gret 7 s 
speck fuh him, wuz anxious ter be an 7 exerter, but he 
had once bin in de whale’s belly three days and three 
nights; so he had ernuff ub de sea. Den he wep 7 on 
de bres 7 ub his Pappy Amelikite, who wuz skerd stiff, 
an 7 wuz weepin 7 on de bres 7 ub Jonah, who f udder say, 
dat he rudder risk his life in battle, er be kilt by de 
jawbone ub an ass, dan sink on one ub dem spittoon 
bridges an 7 be et up by shirks. 77 

Amelikite had condidence in de spittoon bridges, 
ezerted wid Saul, an 7 wid two fence rails dey paddled 
de boat ober ter de camp ub King Dabid. 

Sister Becky : “Pawson Demby, wha 7 dey git fence 
rails fum dem days ?” 

Sister Becky, mos 7 any pusson but me wud teck a 
fence at dat question. 

Ev’ybody nose dat de rods ub ches’nut, hazel, pop- 
lar an 7 pine J acob, de son-in-law ub Mars Laban, had 
piled up, wuz fence rails. In dese days dey call ’em 
fence rails; in dem days, rods. Ez big uh farmer ez 


TO 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

Jacob wnz, wid all de thousands ub mules, jack-asses, 
speckled cattle, goats, sheep an’ cows he had, how he 
gwine ter raise de cawn, oats, wheat an’ barley he 
did ’doutin fences? Why, his beases wud hab ’stroyed 
his craps in one day. 

It cum ter pars Amelikite wen’ wid Saul, 
an’ Saul say, “Tell it not in Gath” (I s’pose 
dat wuz uh army ’spression er watchword) ; so dey 
bail out de boat, paddle ’cross de ribber, an’ landed 
near uh tent. Da sot King Dabid on uh sycamo’ stump 
(sycamo’ trees wuz de fa-vo-rites in dem days ; dat’s de 
tree dat little Zackius clum), musin’ an’ I s’pose long- 
in’ fuh de wife ub Urihy, an’ meddowtatin’ er dotin’ 
on Miss Abigail, de wife ub Kabal, who wuz smut wid 
him, cudn’ resis’ his beauty, an’ cum ter him wid five 
damsels ez bridemaids, all uh straddle ub asses. I 
kyant gib deah names kase Samuel de fus fogot ter 
mention ’em. 

Saul open de composation, an’ speak fus by sayin’ : 
“King Dabid, dis man kep’ comp’ny wid me crossin’ 
de ribber; his name Amelikite. We is bof’n us ezert- 
ers an’ tired ub wah.” Den King Dabid say, “Set 
down; I speck you homgry, too? Hab some kid an’ 
hardtack, an’ tell me de news.” 

Saul told him de Flistines wuz mortifyin’ de moun- 
tain, an’ ev’y man wud die befo’ dey waccinate de 
place. 

King Dabid ris up, shuck his curls, an’ say, “Ef’n 

[ 73 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


it ain’ waccinated mejately I’ll cross de ribber wid uh 
thousan’ chariots, fifty thousan’ artil’ry, twenty thou- 
san’ cavelry on mules, all my damsels on white jack- 
asses, all blowin’ rams’ hohn’s, an’ de Flistin’s I don’ 
’stroy I’ll teck pris’ners, throw in de ribber to de 
shirks dat’s bin feedin’ heah fuh two weeks on some 
ub meh dead mules. 

Jes’ den one ub his spies cum in an’ say, “King Da- 
bid, dat young mule yo’ son Ab-so-lum bin ridin’ hung 
him in uh oak tree!” 

Den King Dabid snort smoke fum his nose, weep 
an’ wep’, an’ wep’ an’ weep; jes’ ez he begin ter git 
pearter his fus’ wife heah Saul’s voice, so she stold 
’way fum de res’ ub de wives, stood by de sycamo’ 
stump an’ say ter King Dabid : 

* “I look thoo uh winder lars week, saw you leapin’ 
an’ dancin’ befo’ de Lawd wid all yo’ might, an’ I 
’spise you in my hyart!” 

Den King Dabid cry, grit he teeth, meddowtate, an’ 
made up he mind ter stop dancin’, sin no mo’ an’ jine 
de Babtis’ chuch; so he throw erway his swo’d an’ say, 
gimmy de pen, cummenc’ ter wright sweet Sams, an’ 
he eyes shine same ez two stars, he lubly face glo’ wid 
de beauty ub holiness, he call fuh he hyarp ub uh 
thousan’ strings, twank it — an’ lemmy read you what 
he sing: 

* II 'Samuel vi, 16. 


[ 74 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss . 


“De Lawd is meh shepherd; I shall not want. He 
meek me ter lie down in green pastures; he leadeth 
me ’side de still waters. He resto’eth meh soul; he 
leadeth me in parfs ub richtousnes fuh his name sake 
(mus’ ask Uncle Reubin who he name fuh). Yea, 
tho’ I wa’k thoo de valley ub de shadder ub death, I 
will feah no evil, fuh thou art wid me; thy rod an’ 
thy staff dey comfort me.” 

Den he chuned his hyarp ergin; he wep’ an’ he 
weep, an’ he weep an he wep’. Den he meddowtate 
an’ bimeby he say : “0, my son Ab-so-lum, my son, 

my son, Ab-so-lum !” 

Uncle Reubin Viney : “Befo’ we teck up de ejec- 
tion I wan’ ter say, da will be uh gre’t rebate Thanks- 
gibbin night in Zion Baptis’ Chuch ; subjec’, secon’ 
chapta Zacharyhy, 6 vus. 

“ ‘Ho, ho, cum forth an’ flee fum de lan’ ub de north, 
saith de Lawd; fuh I hab spred you uh broad ez de 
fo’ winds ub heabin saith de Lawd.’ 

“De rebate will be ter ’cide ef’n Ho, ho wan’ uh 
Chine er Japne, who wuz he ?” 


[ 75 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


HO, HO. 


There had been a great deal of discussion among 
the darkies as to who was “The gret’s rebater, Mars’ 
Pinckney’s Damon Danridge, er Mars’ Hickey’s 
Rasmus Jasper Jemes,” and a committee was ap- 
pointed to select a subject, with the advice and con- 
sent of the negro preachers of Queen Anne, Caroline 
and Talbot counties. They were about three weeks 
deliberating, and finally a part of the following verse 
from Zachariah was selected : 

“Ho, Ho, come forth, and flee from the land of 
the Horth, saith the Lord: for I have spread you 
abroad as the four winds of heaven, saith the Lord.” 
(Chapter II, verse 6.) 

Deacon Damon Danridge for the affirmative. 

Deacon Rasmus Jasper Jemes for the negative. 

Damon Danridge was the body servant of the Rev. 
¥m. Pinckney, once Bishop of Maryland, and was a 
splendid servant, neat, orderly, and as a rule very 
dignified — “Rase he driv uh preacher.” He heard 
most of his marster’s sermons, was a good listener, and 
was so devout and worthy that his brilliant and 


[ 76 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


learned marster became much attached to him, read 
to him, and taught him to read. 

His learning made him very top-lofty, and he as- 
sumed an air of great wisdom with all, was credulous 
and simple-hearted; the darkies thought him won- 
drous wise because they could not understand the big 
words he used. He conjured up and cherished the 
preaching and sayings of his grand marster, and de- 
lighted in repeating the same. If his marster had 
said to him, “Do you see yonder cloud, that’s almost 
in shape of a camel,” he would have seen it as did 
Polonius. 

Rasmus Jasper Jemes had a great local reputation 
as a debater; he was a deacon, and when the regular 
preacher did not turn up Ras filled the “pull-pit,” and 
filled it well; two of his sermons — “His Bref Kinleth 
Coals” and “Let Us Meek Brick” — were considered 
marvelous by the darkies. Indeed, some of them 
thought him inspired (Ras thought he was) — for in- 
stance, in 1833, when the stars fell, all the negroes 
on the plantation w T ere terrified; they hid under beds, 
in barnlofts, hay and straw stacks ; they thought judg- 
ment day and come. Finally Aunt Phillis, John 
Boney and Little Billy, more courageous than the rest, 
went to see Rasmus. He was frying some bacon and 
did not know about the falling stars. He walked 
boldly and confidently out of his quarter, but when 


[ 77 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


he saw the shower of stars, was soon affrighted, and 
dodging about, said, “Look out, Mars Lawd, hits 
Rasmus Jasper Jemes. 77 

Ras could read a little, was far from being dull 
and doted on debating. The subject, “Ho, Ho/ 7 had 
been discussed far and near, and Rasmus had 
“rassled 77 with it diligently; and now that the time 
had come, Zion Church was packed and jammed. 
Uncle Reubin Viney, good and just, Sir Oracle among 
his “Brers/ 7 was judge. 

The servants had all chipped in and gotten Captain 
Stitchberry, of the grain schooner Margaret Jane, to 
buy the best $15 church-clock in Baltimore. It was 
bought just after Parson Demby preached his great 
sermon on “Fogitfulness. 77 Three-fourths of them 
could not tell the time. 

On the door-face of the clock was a picture and 
written under it, “The Finding of Moses. 77 It 
represented eleven females and a camel. Four of 
the -.figures were very black. One of them, sitting 
in the bullrushes and water, held in her lap a large 
basket with a top, in which was Moses, and the daugh- 
ter of Pharoah was looking wistfully at the prophet, 
who was crying lustily, judging from the size of the 
tears in the picture. The black figures had in their 
ears immense gold-colored earrings, almost big 
enough for Moses to crawl through. 


[ 78 ] 


The picture on the face of the Moses clock. 



























1 





. 



Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Captain Stitchberry had selected wisely, for no 
rosary could have been more adored than that clock. 
The sun, moon and stars went by it. When it struck 
you would suppose a small dinner-gong dwelt within. 

Uncle Reubin Viney was seated on the platform 
when in strode Damon and Rasmus, looking as proud 
as peacocks and confident as two victorious gladiators. 

They were both well-figured and had fine faces. 
Rasmus had on a blue swallowtail coat with brass 
buttons, which he had borrowed from hied Young 
and which was given the latter by' his marster twenty 
years before. It was still new-looking, and rarely 
ever worn except on Sundays. 

Damon wore a coat given him by his marster. 
It w’as too big and too long; however, it gave him a 
priestly look — was once worn by his “Mars’ Pinck- 
ney,” and of course, fit him. Shortly after they were 
seated, had sipped some water and cleared their 
throats loud enough for the deaf to hear, the Moses 
clock struck eight, whereupon Uncle Reubin arose and 
said: “Sistus an’ brudders, I hab bin ’pinted futto 
judge an’ ’cide dis rebate, which am, ‘Ef’n Ho, Ho 
wan’ uh Chine er J apne, who wuz he V 

“De jan’tor will please light de big lard-oil lamp, an’ 
ev’y nuss, dairy maid, maid, cook, laundress an’ farm- 
hand, young an’ ole, is ’quested not ter gib any 
’spression ter deah feelin’s ez dis house is sanctifide. I 


[ 79 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


now hab de honah ter in ter juice Brer Deacon Damon 
Danridge . 77 

Damon sipped water complacently, pulled up his 
coatsleeves that were too long, and said : “Sistus an’ 
brudders, I heahd meh Mars 7 Pinckney ub de Pisco- 
palium Chuch an 7 de gret 7 s preacher on uth, say, ‘De 
gret’s books ebber writ wuz de Bible an 7 uh book called 
Shakespeare , 7 which say, ‘Dar’s mo 7 things in heaben 
an 7 y earth, Horace , dan wuz ebber dremp ub in our 
phlos’phy 7 (phlos 7 phy means rash-nal), an 7 Ps gwine 
ter cummenc 7 meli speech wid de miration he woun 7 
up wid — leas’wise it will sorter clustah 7 roun 7 meh 
arg’ment. 

“Lars wintah arfter meh Mars 7 Pinckney got fros 7 - 
bit crossin 7 Miles Bibber ferry, an 7 wuz kep 7 in bed, 
ev 7 y day he used ter read an 7 7 splain de Bible ter me, 
an 7 arfter he drap uh sleep, ter keep meh mind fum 
bein 7 too sot on erligeon I used ter go down to 
Haylan 7 Branch an 7 set snares. One mawnin 7 Little 
Billy went to de snares wid me, so in one ub ’em wuz 
uh dog fox, kotch by he tail . 77 

Deacon Jemes (interrupting) : “What Little Billy 
an 7 fox tails got ter do wid dis rebate ? 77 

Damon Danridge: “Uncle Beubin, dis is de rash- 
nal part ub my discose . 77 

Uncle Beubin: “Is you layin 7 de foundation, 
Damon ? 77 


[ 80 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


Damon: “Ezactly so; precisely !” 

“Well, Little Billy he say, ‘Strange ter me Noahy 
didn’ pizin dem shirks in de yark, an’ strange, gre’t 
ez he wuz, he didn’ hab mo’ ’fluence wid de Petracks.’ 

“ ‘Erboutin’ what V sez I. 

“ Well,’ sez Little Billy, ‘why did dey meek de 
animals’ tails so curisome? Why did dey gib uh fox 
long hyah so uh fly kyant bite he skin, an’ uh long 
bushy tail dat ain’ no use ter h im V 

“Kase when de fields is frosty, de houn’s feel 
good, an’ his tail git wet — jes’ full ub fros’ an’ dew — 
den dar’s sho’ ter be uh kilt fox, an’ den Mars Nickey 
will say, not pursidderin ’ de wet tail , ‘Da ain’ no red 
fox on uth kin git erway fum meh houn’s.’ 

“Brudderin, dis is uh gre’t subjec’. Now, teck uh 
pig fuh instinct, dat we lubs ter eat; dat ain’ ornry 
like uh fox, yet he’s made fuh de flys ter pester ! His 
leetle curly tail is not much bigger dan uh goose quill, 
an’ not mo’n harf ez long; uh tail he kyant switch 
when de blue-tail fly dribes him in de ribber. 

“ ‘Well,’ sez I, ‘s’posen de fox hab de pigtail; it 
would breck up fox huntin’; dey nebber cud ketch 
him den ! Mo’n dat, de Bible say Sampson went out 
an’ kotch 300 foxes an’ tern ’em tail ter tail, an’ lit 
deah tails wid uh torch, den sot ’em loose an’ dey run 
’mong de cawn an’ craps ub de Flistines an’ buhn ’em 
up. Now, s’spose Sampson, sted ub takin’ 300 fox- 


[ 81 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


tails, tuck 300 pigtails — sot dem uh fire. Da wud 
uh bin uh pow’ful lot ub squeelin’, dat’s all !’ 

“An’ Little Billy say, ‘Jes’ so; jes’ so!’ 

“Uh terrapin’s tail ain’ longer dan yo’ eyelash, 
an’ uh mus’ rat’s tail almos’ ez long ez Rasmus ’ foot ; 
you skins mus’rats, hangs ’em up by de tail, an’ sells 
de skins, but you don’ sell terrapin skins, an’ don’ 
hang ’em up — consequencely dat’s de application. 

“ S’pose de peacock hab de elephant’s tail, an’ de 
elephant de peacock tail, now how wud dat look ? Er 
uh cow had uh roostuh’s tail, an’ uh roostuh uh cow 
tail? Da is some free niggahs fum Henracka County, 
Eurginny, haulin’ deah sain in Miles Bibber, an’ fum 
what I kin heah, dey wud soon breck up de breed 
ub chickins, ornless de chickins all hens. Jes’ tread 
on de roostuh’s tail, dat’s all. 

“Sistus an’ brudders, I no I got yo’ condidence — 
I cud swap tails all night, an’ you wud see all de 
time de wissum ub de c’rator ergin swappin’. ‘Da 
is mo’ things in heaben an’ yearth, Horace, dan is 
dremp ub in our phlos’phy.’ 

“How, dis is de rash-nal part ub meh discose, ter 
show dat you kyant change things ’doutin’ makin’ 
mustakes. You kyant meek Ho Ho uh Chine any 
mo’ dan you kin change de animals’ tails. 

“Dese days people don’ meddowtate ernuff. Ef’n 
people wud meddowtate an’ read de Bible like I is 


[ 82 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


full two weeks on dis subjec’, dey wud hab no doubt 
’boutin de thurrybred Japne ped’gree ub Ho Ho. 
Hit’s plain ez daybreck, an’ I spressify ergin, you 
kyant change it any mo’ dan you kin change de 
animals’ tails. 

“How, dis brings us ter de pus-nal part ub meh 
discose, an’ ef’n you projic wid dat fambly you kyant 
git erway fum de fac’ dat Noahy wuz uh man ub 
quare tase, an’ prob’ly had uh harf dozen wibes, which 
wuz de fashion in dem days. 

“Hoahy mus’ uh bin uh man ve’y fon’ ub de diffem’ 
shades ub color; fuh instinct, Ham’s Ma mus’ uh bin 
uh cullud pusson, Sham’s uh white pusson an’ J ap- 
heth’s uh Japne. 

“I am confluent dat Ho Ho wuz uh Japne, wid 
uh strain ub Chine blood, an’ my phlos’phy will 
show it. 

“De Bible tells us plain ez plain kin be, dat Hoahy 
had three sons — Sham , Ham an’ Jhpheth. Sham, 
ez befo’ mentioned, wuz uh white pusson; Ham wuz 
uh cullud pusson, an’ J apheth mus’ uh bin uh J apne. 
I bleebe ef’n Noahy cud speak, he wud say so, an’ 
ef’n you will follow de application, hit will be ez 
clare ez de jewdraps on de vines, er de fros’ on de 
fodder. 

“I ain’ bin ridin’ wid Mars Pinckney fuh nuffin.” 

By this time the audience was fast getting “ J apne,” 


[ 83 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


and Rasmus anxious. So he said: “Damon, Mars 
Pinckney bin heppin 7 you wid dis rebate! 7 ’ 

“Well, s 7 pose he is; don 7 1 ’long ter him an 7 he ’long 
ter me ?” 

“Well, hit don 7 pester me, fuh Mars Arthur holp 
me. He ain 7 no preacher, but I reckon he kin read 
an 7 wright ter keep pace wid de bes 7 ub preachers. 77 

“Meshac wuz de son ub JApheth. He wuz uh 
cunjerrer an 7 cud walk on fire, an 7 ub cose he got 
hit fum he Japne Pa. 

“In de fus 7 book ub Cronicles, fus 7 vus, by ’westiga- 
tion, you will fine dat J apheth wuz de gre’t-gre’t-gre’t 
uncle ter Joktan, an 7 he had uh son name Jobab (you 
see how dey keep up de fambly names), an 7 Joktan 
wuz kin ter Mibsam (dat’s wha de Chine cross cum in), 
an 7 Joktan wuz also uh connection ub Jafcan. Well, 
put uh “p” wha dat “k” am, an 7 you hab Japan. Mars 
Pinckney say hit’s plain ter his mind. 

“Par’s fusion in de Bible erbout de name, kase in 
some places dey call it Akan; an 7 dat fusion is kase 
dey got uh “k” ’sted ub uh “p” in po 7 Jakan’s name. 
It’s uh sad thing ter twiss uh man’s name dat way. 

“Ez I hab de ’eludin’ re-marks, I will add mo 7 ter 
de application ef’n Brer Rasmus rassles hyard wid 
de subjec 7 . 77 

Deacon Rasmus Jasper Jemes: 

“Sistus an 7 brudders ub Kyarline, Queen Anne’s 


[ 84 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


an’ Talbot County: Ef’n Shake — what de res’ 
ub he name?” 

Uncle Reubin Yiney (with austerity) — “Shake- 
speare.” 

“Well, ef’n Shakespeare an’ Horace (I dunno what 
Horace he talkin’ erbout, but ef’n he mean Miss 
Rodgers’ Horace, I w T on’ bleebe anything he say), an’ 
if dat book an’ Horace is ez ornsortin an’ mixed up 
ez de mirations ub Brer Damon Danridge, den I don’ 
think much ub de book. Mo’n dat, Rash-nal an’ Pus- 
nal got nuffin ter do wid dis rebate, an’, Brer Yiney, I 
wan’ you ter rule Shakespeare, Horace, Rash-nal an’ 
Pus-nal outin’ it. 

“Hits ornpropper ter talk erbout dat book ’long side 
de Bible. I wouldn’ walk ’cross dis room ter shake 
hands wid Shakes-peare, an’ ef’n de truf wuz 
knewed, I speck he wuz one ub dem Quakers. 

“Belubbed, ev’ybody kin see fum Deacon Danridge 
speech dat he got no confluence in Ho Ho’s breedin’, 
ebin got ter bring pig-tails in dis rebate. What dey 
got ter do wid uh Japne er Chine?” 

Deacon Damon Danridge — “Ef’n you had read any 
phlos’phy you’d no dat Chinese hab pig-tails.” 

“Youkyant see th’oo a millstone less’n it got uh hole 
in it, but you kin see th’oo uh pain ub glass ef’n da 
ain’ no hole in it, an’ it’s clare ez uh pain ub glass 
dat Ho Ho wan’ no Chine er Japne. I kyant read 


[ 85 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


an’ spell so ve’y well, ez I nebber ’ longed ter er dribe 
full uh Piscopalium preacher , but Little Billy kin 
read, an’ he bin readin’ ober an’ ober ter me de Book 
ub Cronicles, Bebellation, Jerry-Myehr, Sams, Daniel, 
Jona an’ Zacharihy, so I reckon dem books jes’ ez 
truflul ez de Book ub Genesis. How t , de Book ub 
Daniel say, chapter de fus’, “De chillun ub Juda, 
Daniel, Hana-Hia, Mishel an’ Azarihy all had deah 
name chang’ by Hebacudnezzer. Daniel’s change ter 
Bell-Shazzer, uh ooman’s name; Hana-Nia, uh man 
wid uh ooman’s name, ter Shadrack; Mishel ter 
Meshac, an’ Azarihy ter Ahednegro. ’Cose he mus uh 
bin uh dark pusson like Ham” 

Deacon Damon Danridge — “Brer Jemes, kin you 
qualify dat lars miration?” 

“Sut’ny I kin! Hit’s all in de Book ub Daniel 
erboutin de time Daniel saw de han’writin’ on de wall. 
How, ef’n de chillun ub Juda had deah names 
changed, why cudn’ Hoahy change de animals’ tails 
ef’n he felt like it? Brer Danridge, wha’s Bash-nal 
now ? An’ wha’s yo’ condidence in Ho Ho’s 
breedin’ ? 

“Why dey change de names ub dem chillun is mo’ 
dan I kin ondastan; dey wan’ ornry, an’ had dun 
nuffin; fac’ is, de king say [reading from the Bible], 
‘Dey ten times better dan de musisioners an’ ’strone- 
mers in de law;’ an’ dey wuz fine players, too. De 


[ 86 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Bible say, ‘Dey played de cornet, Ante, hyarp, an’ 
sackbut.’ Bat lars’ instrument is ez much uh myst’ry 
ter me ez Ho Ho. 

“We read in de book ub Daniel dey played all 
kinds ub music ; mo’n dat, dey wuz all ’ceppin’ Daniel 
fireproof. 

“I kin alums’ see sweet little Ham playin’ wid dem 
gre’t musisioners. Kin anybody see Ho Ho? Not ef 
he wuz uh Chine er Japne, kase dey wudn’ ’ low no 
seek music ez dat dem days , when de Petracks made 
de laws. 

Now, Zachary hy he only name fo’ pussons — (Pm 
readin’ fum de Book ub Zacharyhy) — an’ all de 
names ’ceppin’ Ho Ho’s cummenc’ wid de letter “b.” 
He lubbed “b” so much, wonder he didn’ name Ho Ho 
Bo Bo. I s’pose Brer Damon wud call Bochim, 
Bill-hah, Be-Tah, Beth-Sham an’ Belzebub Chine er 
Japne. Well, I reckon de lars one wuz Chine. Leab 
you alone, Brer Danridge, you’d meek rat-eaters ub 
all de saints. 

“Obid, de pa ub Jesse, is only spoke ub uh few times 
in de Bible ; how-some-ebber, he wuz uh gran’ man, an’ 
he gre’t-gre’t-gre’t-gre’t granpa v/uz Ram.” 

Damon — “Ras, you mean Sham.” 

a No, I don’; I mean Ram! I reckon I bin readin’ 
an’ westigatin’ de Bible ez well ez Brer Damon, an’ 
I wan’ ter tell him when C’lumbus ’sciver’d Americy 


[ 87 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


he ’sciver’d- Talbot County befo’ he did Ilyarline 
County. I s’pose you’d call Obid uh Chine? 

“Ho Ho is only mentioned once in Zacharyhy’s 
narration, but think what er gre’t man he wuz, fuh 
de vus say, ‘Ho Ho, cum forth an’ flee f um de lan’ 
ub de Horth, saith de Lawd: fuh I hab spread you 
abroad (jes see what condidence Zachary hy had in 
him) as de fo’ winds ub de heaben, saith de Lawd.’ 

“In dem days de fo’ winds mus’ uh all blow’d Souf , 
kase Zachary hy tells him ‘Ter flee fum de lan’ ub de 
Norf: 

“My erpinion is dat Ho Ho wuz de nick name fuh 
one ub de Petracks, fuh I once heah Mars Pinckney 
say in uh sermon dat Ab’ham, Isaac er Jacob, I fogit 
which, dwelt in de Souf country. 

“Zachary hy knew how ter spressify hissef. ’Tain’ 
no use mentionin’ gre’t people all de time. Damon 
nose how ter spressify hissef sometimes , but not ter 
night. He wudn’ inter juice Bash-nal, Pus-nal, Hor- 
ace, Shakespeare, an’ all sorts ub animals’ tails in dis 
rebate, ef’n he wan’t skeetin’ [skating] on thin ice, 
an’ fustyfied. 

“Mo’n dat, is da any pusson heah dat s’poses 
Zachary hy, whose Pa wuz uh king, would put all dat 
condidence in uh Japne er Chine? 

“Lars’ but not leas’, Little Billy say he thinks he 
read somewha in de Bible dat LIo Ho hab a beard. 


[ 88 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


Now, ef’n de Japnes an' Chinese don’ hab beards dese 
days, ’twuz ornpossible dey had beards dem days.” 

Uncle Reubin Yiney : “Dis hab bin uh pow’ful 
argument, an’ arfter careful meddowtatin’, I ’sposed 
ter think Ho Ho uh Japne wid two Chine crosses, but 
it’s uh subjec’ ub gre’t consequation ; dafo’ I pint 
Pawson Phil Demby, Deacon Damon Danridge an’ 
Deacon Rasmus Jasper Jemes arbiters futto such de 
Scripturs, an’ ef’n dey fine Ho Ho had heavy whiskus 
den I ’cide Ho Ho wan’ no Japne er Chine.” 

Little Billy: “Pawson Demby, hit woudn’ s’prise 
me ef’n hoe-cake wuz Ho Ho cake, name arfter Ho Ho. 
John Poney al’ays sez ho ho cake.” 

Tilly Mink: “Dat’s kase he stutters! Let dat 
man’s tung ’lone, Billy; you no he tung-tide.” 

Deacon Rasmus Jasper Jemes (with great ostenta- 
tion) : “Uncle Reubin, it’s bad ’nuff ter hab Horace, 
Rash-nal. Pus-nal an’ Shakespeare in dis rebate, an’ 
wussa still ter call Ho Ho uh Japne er Chine, but ter 
call de sweet hoe-cake uh Japne er Chine cake, is mo’ 
dan I kin ondastan, an’, hit’s scanlous an’ ornichious. 


[ 89 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


RASH-NAL AN’ PUS-NAL. 


De summer night hit’s lubly when you wa’kin wid yo’ gal 
An’ she sweetah dan de honey ub de bee; 

An’ she ’low dat you kyant kiss huh, kase hit ain’ rash- 
nal, 

At de grapevine hangin’ by de holly tree. 


But de summer night gits lublier, when swingin’ ’side 
dat gal, 

An’ yo’ ahm a’mos’ destracted ’roun’ huh waise; 

Kase she look inter yo’ face, an’ say, “Ain’ you pus-nal?” 
When you go down on huh mouf an’ teck uh tas’e. 


Da’s no swing like de grapevine! hit’s sut’ny de bes’, 
Kase you hab ter set ornpropper all de time, 

You swing so close togedda dat you kine er mus’ caress, 
Fuh you al’ays got dat black gal on yo* mine. 



[ 90 ] 


BLACK CREEK, BELOW THE FALLS. 


I 


t 














































































































Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


DE COMPOSATION UB DE 
SNIPE. 


Little Billy was as black as a tar pot, short of 
stature, very bow-legged, cunning as a fox. and smart. 
When he drew his bow across a fiddle it made you feel 
like dancing, and when there was a dance among the 
overseers, Billy played, and called out, “Swing yo' 
partners “pigeon wing,” “ladies ter de center,” etc. 
He set muskrat traps, fished on Sundays, and often 
coon and ’possum hunted Sunday nights. His bow 
legs enabled him to climb like a cat, and no tree was 
too big for him to negotiate if Truman treed up the 
same; and when Billy sang out, “Put him up, True!” 
and Truman “chawed de bark an’ wep, an’ ’stressed 
hissef,” as Billy would say, you might be sure there 
was a coon in the tree. 

Billy was a slave, helped to milk the cows, tote fire 
wood, pick the chickens, turkeys and geese, and was 
“horngry” all the time. The negroes thought Billy 
monstrous wise, but thought Satan would get him. 
He was an innocent fabricator, and a harmless rogue. 

One day whilst husking com he said he had once 
killed twelve eagles at a shot. The darkies remon- 


[ 91 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


strated with him, and said they had never seen more 
than two eagles at a time, whereupon Billy said he 
had killed ten. They continued to taunt him until he 
dropped to three, and then said, ‘Til die befo’ I drap 
another eagle !” 

One Saturday in March Billy sauntered to the hum- 
ble cabin of Jerry and Caesar Butler, brothers and 
free negroes, to steal a dozen raw. They lived at the 
head of a creek, fished, oystered, and hunted the 
marsh for muskrats for a livelihood. Saturday night 
the boat came, and he knew they would have several 
barrels of oysters for the steamer. The weather was 
not very cold and he assumed they were oystering, be- 
cause the day before whilst they were out Billy had 
slipped over and stolen a cooking ’possum. Arriving 
at the cabin, lo! and behold, Caesar and Jerry were 
both on deck, the former lamenting and pondering 
about his ’possum, the latter skinning a lot of musk- 
rats he had trapped the night before. 

Caesar was fond of ’possum, and returning from 
oystering hungry and tired, stopped at the country 
store, bought a pint of applejack and a fat ’possum, 
went home, put his ’possum in the ashes, covered it 
with coals, took several swigs of applejack, and went 
soundly to sleep — ’ possum struck. 

When Billy appeared the ’possum was nice- 
ly roasted, which Billy ate, piled the bones 


[ 92 ] 


Ole Mars art Ole Miss. 

in Caesar’s lap, greased his hands and face, so 
when Caesar awoke he found his hands and cheeks 
greasy, and a pile of ’possum hones in his lap. He 
licked his hands, and said, “Dat’s ’possum;” felt his 
cheeks and said, “Dat’s ’possum sho’,” and when he 
saw the pile of bones in his lap, said: “Dat’s ’ston- 
ishin’ applejack, an’ de mos’ ornsatisfactionis’ ’possum 
dat ebber I et.” 

Billy was very generous and when he had money 
would buy oysters, but without money would invite 
himself to take, and generally took them, for he was 
prodigal. It was nothing unusual for him to go to 
the country store and buy two eggs’ worth of mo- 
lasses, of which he was very fond. 

Billy had to have an excuse for his midday visit, 
so he pondered quite a while inventing one. The 
’possum came to mind, and his heart sank into his 
boots. Then he thought of the snipe that had pitched 
on the marsh the night before, and soon had a yarn 
ready ; so as the two old brothers sat gazing into the 
soothing fire, watching some bacon fry, he sauntered 
in, looking meek like , and said he had ‘come to tell 
dem what he heahd de Jack Snipe say on de mash 
lars nite, when he wuz mus’rattin’.” Jerry and Caesar 
were credulous and superstitious, but questioned Bil- 
ly’s hearing the snipe talk. True they thought them 
“ve’y ’ceitful and quare birds, but nebber heahd dem 


[ 93 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


talk.” Billy said, “Crows an’ parrots talk, but dey 
wan’ anyt’ing ter jack snipe. Glioses an’ witches 
libbed in cow’s holms! Watah rail tu’ned inter frogs 
an’ jack snipe tu’ned into jack-uk-ma-lanterns, which 
wuz ’ceitful larf in witches, but after all, hit all ain’ 
harf ez strange ez uh little blossom meckin’ uh water- 
million.” 

The brothers were now perplexed and anxious to 
hear Billy’s story, and when urged said he “wuz too 
horngry to tell ’bout hit, mus’ go home an’ git some 
dinner;” whereupon Jerry suggested oysters, which 
Billy said he “wuz not ve’y fon’ ub, but dey wud do.” 
Then he gave the snipe story, as follows : 

“I wuz mus’rattin’ on de mash lars’ nite. De moon 
had jes’ riz, an’ de tide wuz creepin’ in jes’ ez quiet 
an’ rash-nal ez uh settin’ hen. De creek an’ de mash' 
look so lubly, I ’gin ter muse an’ fogot ’bout de 
mus’rats, an’ wuz t’inkin’ boutin uh new chune I’s 
learnin’ ter play, call, T Sweeps de Kitchen Clean’ — 
when, sizz! cum uh Bite ub dem snipe, an’ dey mos’ 
lit on me. I reckon dey wud, but I say, ‘You better 
mine yo’sef, snipe!’ Bimeby one ub ’em say ter uh 
frog dat wuz chawin’ uh grasshopper not mo’n de 
length ub uh fence rail fum me, ‘Lubly nite, Mr. 
Frog!’ ” 

Jerry: “Now, hush! I al’ays sed dem birds wuz 
strange — cum ter day an’ gone ter morrow!” 


[ 94 ] 


Partridge Hunting at “Fairlands”— Rob Roy and Rose. 
































Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


“Den de snipe say, ‘What sort ub frogs you bin 
keepin’ comp’ny wid?’ Uncle Jerry, I got so skeerd 
an’ cole I ain’ got warm yit.” 

Uncle Caesar: “Po’ Billy! Won’ you bab ub sip 
ub applejack?” 

“Ef you don’ t’ink I’ll get too het up.” 

Uncle Caesar: “ ’Cose you won’!” 

“Well, den, heah’s luck!” 

“Sarvis ter you, Billy! Now go on ’bout dat sassy 
frog an’ snipe.” 

“Well, de frog be say, ‘I’s uh white-bellied frog, 
I is! I ain’ no kin ter toad frogs. I is ub qual’ty 
frog. What kounty you fum, Mr. Snipe?’ ” 

Uncle Jerry Butler: “How, Billy, you mean ter 
tell me you heabd dat composation ?” 

Little Billy: “’Cose I did! Ain’ you nebber 
beahd ub frog talk, Uncle Jerry?” 

“Uo indeed, chile!” 

“Dat’s kase you don’ keep quiet ’nuff. How cum 
dey hab sicb long tungs ef’n dey kyant talk? Why, 
heah’s ub book gib me by Mars John Charles lars’ 
Chrismus, writ by (I kyant read de fus’ part ub de 
name, but bit en’s wid Sop) [Aesop]. Dat pictur’ is 
wba de frogs is askin’ fub ub king.” 

Uncle Jerry: “De Lawd bless meh soul, what is we 
ter speck nex’ ? Lemme see de pictur’, Billy.” 


[ 95 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“Well, I struck at dat frog wid meh paddle. He 
jes’ wink lie eye, grunt, an’ gib me sich uh curisome 
look, dat I got so skeered an’ cole I kyant git wa’m; 
so I don’ feel peart ’nufi ter tell de res’ ub de story.” 

Uncle Jerry: “Teck sum mo’ applejack, Billy; 
but don’ teck much, kase hit’s applejack dat mecks 
you ve’y fogitful.” 

“Dat lars’ drink mecks me feel nice an’ wa’m! 
Well, when de frog say, What kounty you cum fum?’ 
de snipe say, ‘Souf Kharlina!’ Den de frog say, 
‘What meek you set so fur out in de mash? De mud, 
grass an’ bresh is fine in heah, an’ jes’ ez wa’m ez uh 
tose, an’ plenty ub tussocks, too.’ De jacksnipe say, 
‘I nebber sleep er feed ’doutin I kin see all ’roun’ me. 
I’s got uh game leg, an’ I will tell you all erbout 
mehsef. What yo’ fus’ name, Mr. Frog? Bull! 
Dat’s uh lubly name. Meh name is Cap’n Jack Snipe!’ 

“Mr. Frog: ‘What sorter spring you hab?’ 

“Cap’n Snipe: ‘Hot ve’y nice. Grasshoppus an’ 
wumms is so sca’ce, an’ ez I befo’ tole you, I got uh 
game leg an’ kyant git ’roun’ good. “All moufs 
mus’ eat, but all moufs musn’ eat gravel.” Dat’s 
chicken an’ tukkey food, I eats wumms, grasshoppus, 
an’ sich like.’ 

“ Well, how boutin de game leg, Cap’n? I ’gin 
ter think you ain’ got no game leg.’ 

“ ‘Deed I is; an’ dat game leg cum fum failin’ in 


[ 96 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


lub. Let me tell you fus’ what meh tase is an’ how 
brabe I is. I lub de juicy mash, glade an’ meadow, 
an’ I is feared ub nuffin ceppin hawks, owls, guns, 
dogs an’ mus’rats. But when I tu’ns inter uh Jack- 
uh-ma-lantern I ain’ feared ub nuffin.’ ” 

Uncle Jerry: a Billy, look at me! You sho’ dat 
snipe spressify dey tu’n inter Jack-uh-ma-lantems?” 

“Cross meh hyart an’ bref.” 

Uncle Jerry: “Well, den, I eat no mo’ snipe ! Dat 
mus’ be de reason I’s bin dreamin’ so bad.” 

Little Billy: “Talkin’ ’bout dem Jack-uh-ma- 
lanterns meek me feel quare. I is trimlin’ like uh 
aspine leaf.” 

“Teck ’nubba nip, Billy, an’ try ter ’stain yo’sef 
tell you git th’oo dis s’prisin’ narration.” 

“Well, he say: ‘Meh name Cap’n Jack Snipe, an’ 
I cummand uh comp’ny ub snipe, an’ we gwine ter 
summer on dis mash wid some cute young lady snipe 
fum Souf Kyarlina, dat’s gwine ter mate heah, an’ 
ub cose, nes’. De mus’rats don’ meek any mo’ mira- 
tions ’bout dis mash den I do. An’ de wumms, an’ de 
sweet roots dat grow heah wud ’tract uh snipe fum 
any State. I heahd uh woodcock say lars’ summer 
dat she had trabel uh good deal, but had nebber seen 
sich uh mash ez Wile Goose Mash. I sleeps well out 
on de mash kase I am de cap’n ub dis cpmp’ny ub 
snipe, an’ has ter watch out. Dat’s why I ain’ shuck 


[ 97 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


jo ’ han’, Mr. Frog; kase I is ve’y sociable, an’ likes 
frogs eben ef dey do say when be go coatin’ be carry 
uh swo’d an’ pisel by he side. Hit’s mos’ my co’tin’ 
time!’ 

“Mr. Frog: When’s dat?’ 

“ When de peach an’ cherry trees am bloomin’, 
when de bees am suckin’ clober, an’ de patridge say, 
“Bob White,” we gits in lub, an’ wants uh mate. It’s 
’nufT ter meek you cry, Mr. Frog, but dat’s de time 
I got uh game leg. Hit wuz one lubly day early in 
May. I wuz sorter dozin’ ’side uh tussock, ebery 
now an’ den ketchin’ uh grub wum, when I saw uh 
gran’ lookin’ pinter dog, gallopin’ same ez uh race 
hoss, cummin’ my way, an’ not fur behin’ him uh 
man in gum boots. Sez I ter mehsef, sez I, when 
you git erboutin uh hun’erd ya’ds fum me I’ll dart 
’way. Jes’ den uh putty young lady snipe fum 
Firginny darted fum un’er uh nearby tussock, winked 
huh lubly black eyes in de mos’ coaxin’ way, spread 
huh tail like uh dear little fan.’ ” 

Uncle Caesar: “Wan’ she uh sassy snipe?” 

“‘So I say in de p’lites’ way, “Won’ you tase dis 
wum?” In uh moment she stood ’side me an’ say 
in words mo’ sweetah dan de mockin’ birds, “I’s got 
such miration fuh you I kyant resis’.” A moment 
later I heahd dat gunner say, “Careful da!” I ris up. 


[ 98 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Bang! Uh number ten shot wen’ th’oo meh thigh, 
an’ dat’s why I got uh game leg.’ ” 

Uncle Jerry Butler: “Billy, I s’pose I mus’ bleebe 
yo’ story, kase I heah ’em read down ter de sto’ lars’ 
nite, dat uh hen lay uh gole egg, which is wussa yit. 
How-some-eber, I sut’ny wud lub ter ketch one ub 
dem breed ub chickens uh roosin’ ’roun’ heah. 


[ 99 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


NANCY YOUNG. 


In Pleasant Valley, at the head of Fausley Creek, 
there were several quarters, in one of which lived 
Haney Young, not a stone’s throw from the quarter 
of Aunt Cassey. Haney helped in milking the cows, 
churning, making butter, and at harvest time helped 
the cooks, but Mammy Haney, as the darkies called 
her, was virtually her own mistress, and was never re- 
quired to do hard work; in short, she was the planta- 
tion doctress, and it was seldom that any little darkies 
came into the world without Mammy Haney’s assist- 
ing their advent. The negroes thought her inspired, 
and when they had ailments Haney made them a 
decoction that went to the spot ; in brief, she was well 
acquainted with the use of herbs. She had faithfully 
nursed Mrs. Isaac Atkinson, a Quakeress and neigh- 
bor, who imparted to her many of her secret remedies ; 
some of these would have enlightened a modern doc- 
tor. For example, she had a remedy for what she 
called “cowbuncle,” which was almost a specific for 
carbuncle. Haney especially doted on making cat- 


[ 100 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


nip tea, and when she held in her faithful arms a can- 
tankerous baby, and crooned and gave it catnip tea, 
“De chile wan 7 pestered no mo.’ ” 

She was motherly, sympathetic and a born nurse, 
and not only attended the servants, but nursed the 
ladies of the neighborhood. She was extremely pious, 
and if she had not been, I do not know what would 
have become of Little Billy; she was his wife. 

Nancy was full of determination and spirit, and 
when Billy came in early in the morning from ’pos- 
sum hunting without a ’possum, she always suspected 
he had been to Major Budd’s store, and took the 
strong hand with him that he took with his steers, 
and would not let him have his banjo and pipe. 

The earliest watermelons grew in her garden, and 
she had spring chicken weeks before her neighbors. 

. Billy was not allowed even to go into the garden, for 
she was afraid he might disturb her herb patch. It did 
not disturb Billy, however, who preferred his corn- 
cob pipe and banjo. Nancy was very fond of music, 
and once she said to me: “Billy ain’ got no erligion, 
but he do play de banjo same ez uh cherrypin” [cher- 
ubim]. 

Some gypsies struck their tents on the main road 
about a mile from Nancy’s home, and one night a man 
rode up, inquired for Mammy Nancy, and said his 
wife was sick. She was soon with the gypsy, who was 


[ 101 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

ailing some two weeks, and when Nancy returned she 
was not only a doctress, but a firm believer in witch- 
craft, and could tell your fortune by looking at your 
hand. 

Nancy was making some bone-set and snake-root 
tea — Billy had the shakes, so she said — when Billy 
broke the silence by asking, “Nancy, what’s de matter 
wid dem hens?” 

“Billy, you know uh mink skerd de hens week ‘fo’ 
lars’, an’ ’sturbed deah mem’ry fuh layin’. I ain’ 
got but eight eggs ter-day an’ none yistiddy, so dese 
all we got fuh suppah.” 

“Is you got de spider hot? Well, den, cut orf 
eight slices ub bacon an’ den we will hab uh slice ub 
bacon fuh each egg. Heah’s some kinlin’ wood I 
picked up in Mars Pinckney’s woodpile, an’ by de 
time de bacon is fryin’ good — dat is, de grease bilin’ — 
speck me back wid fo’ catfish I kotch in de net lars’ 
nite, which will keep us fum gittin’ horngry befo’ sup- 
pah time. I’m gwine ter de rebate ter-night.” 

“Billy, ez I ondastan’ hit da ain’ much use gwine. 
Uncle Beubin, Pawson Demby an’ Damon Danridge 
is on de side futto ’sterminate de witches, an’ dat 
fusty niggah, Jerry Jones, is fuh lettin’ de witches 
lib. Now I don’ kuh any mo’ fuh him dan I do fuh 
uh shirk! Tell me, lars’ nite at Mage Rudd’s sto’ 
he spressify hissef dat he wuz so well ’quainted wid 


[ 102 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


de witches in Haylan’ Branch dat dey al ? ays bow ter 
him when dey meet him; an’ he say he of’n hab com- 
posation wid ’em, an’ dat dey hab de gre’tes’ condi- 
dence in him; an’ Mage Rndd say he has heahd de 
witches mo’n once praisin’ him. He’s got uh bran’ 
new fiddle an’ bo’ dat cos’ $9, which he made fum 
coon hides in one monf . I)e fac’ is, strange ez hit may 
seem, dey won’ let nobody hunt in Haylan’ Branch 
ceppin Jerry. Mo’n dat, dey tell me he said he wan’ 
feared ub de sponsibility ub rebatin’ by hissefj dat 
de witches sass him sometimes, but fuh de mos’ part 
dey kine and lubly.” 

“How, Haney, Jerry nebba spressify dat de witches 
lubly.” 

“Yas he did! Mo’n dat, Ceaser an’ Jerry Butler 
heah him, an’ dey so pestered ’boutin dem witches 
’stead ub walkin’ fum deah house thoo Pleasant Wal- 
ley ter wha dey keep deah boat on de ribba, not mo’n 
uh quarter ub uh mile fum deah house, dey walks 
two miles ’roun’ de walley, dey so feared dem witches 
ride an’ whup ’em. Hit wudn’ s’prise me ef’n de 
debbil wuz ter transplant Jerry same ez de Lawd 
transplanted Eunuch. Why, he’s ebin ’cused de 
Petracks ub lubbin’ an’ keepin’ comp’ny wid witches. 
Hit’s scan’lus! Damon Danridge say dat he heah 
Jerry Jones say dat Samuel de fus’ use ter let witches 
roos’ all erroun’ his house, an’ dat hit’s true dat 


[ 103 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


Moses fell out wid uh witch an’ say, *“Thou shall not 
suffah uh witch ter lib,” an’ he mout uh kilt ’em all, 
but jes’ den Mars Hoahy an’ his cullud son Ham driv 
up wid uh bag an’ say, “Saul, I’m bleeged ter hab uh 
par ub witches fuh meh boat,” an’ Jerry ’low dat de 
sponsibility resses wid Mars Hoahy, de father ub dat 
lubly boy Ham. 

“Stephen, what is de rebate ezactly? I dunno 
what you gwine fuh ! I hab uh gre’t mine ter meek 
you stay home an’ hab nuffin ter do wid witches. 
How kin you go ter de rebate when da is three hens 
hatchin’, an’ minks imperdent? Da is only one 
thing I want you ter go fuh, an’ I bin layin’ out futto 
tell you. 

“Yistiddy mawnin’ I wuz crossin’ de road gwine ter 
de thicket wha dat speckled hen name “Yaller Legs” 
is hatchin’ — in de pile ub jack-oak brush close ter de 
spring — when, lo an’ beholst! dat free niggah Jim 
Brooks cum erlong. He wuz dribin’ in his kyart uh 
po’ leetle harf-starbed steer, an’ I wuz jes’ thinkin’ 
ter mehsef, Is dat kyart movin’ er no, so slow wuz he 
gwine. De truf is de leetle steer wan’ much bigger 
dan one ub Mars Pinckney’s wethers. Tho’ I nebba 
been interjuced ter dat Jim Brooks (me dat waits on 
de qual’ty), jes’ ez I cross de road dat free niggah say 
ter his steer, ‘Step up, Pete, step up; an’ look out, 


* Exodus xxii, 18. 


[ 104 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


stranger, dat you don* git run oberP Now, I corn- 
sider dat de wus 7 sort ub impotence, an 7 I wan 7 you 
ter tell him so ef 7 n he is at Zion ter-night. I 7 m not 
gwine ter stan 7 hit. Ef 7 n he had uh par ub fars-trot- 
tin 7 steers like Uncle Simon’s, hit wud be bad ’nuff, 
but ter be ’suited by dat sort ub miration is scan’lus.” 

“Well, Nancy, stay home an 7 let me go ter de re- 
bate; dem chickens’ hatchin 7 is pow’ful waluble. I 
gib Mage Rudd five levys fuh thutty ub dem eggs, 
an 7 he say dat breed ub chickens cum fum Henrico 
County, Eirginny, an 7 once lay uh gole egg; so ub 
cose dey wuf watchin 7 day an 7 nite. Mo’n dat, I am 
one ub de arbiters, an 7 I won’ let dat imperdent free 
niggah Jim Brooks dat ’suited you cum in Zion, ef’n 
hit breck up de rebate. I holp ter meek de brick fuh 
dat chuch, an 7 I sut’ny got some sponsibility in de 
matter . 77 

“Well, Billy, when you spressify yo’sef dat way, 
ez de moon is so young, an 7 hit so dark, I will stay 
home.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a gentle 
knock at the door, which Nancy opened and ex- 
claimed, “Bless meh soul an 7 body, an 7 body an 7 soul, 
ef’n hit ain 7 young Mistis! Why, honey, howdy; 
an 7 wha you bin ?” 

“Mammy Nancy, one of Father’s ewes died in 
February and left a dear little lamb. I took it to the 


[ 105 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


house, fed it from a bottle, and it became like Mary’s 
little lamb — everywhere that I went the lamb was sure 
to go. Early this morning I started out to get the 
first spring flowers. After I had walked about a mile 
I heard Snow Flake bleating, and looking back saw 
her gambolling after me. When I passed the fold a 
hundred or more of beautiful leaping lambs romped 
around her, and soon my sweet Snow Flake seemed to 
forget me and skipped and played with the other 
lambs. I felt that I would be a wolf to take that 
lamb from the flock; and yet, Mammy Nancy, I love 
that little lamb so much. And, oh ! how I have 
watched and tended it! Finally I walked to your 
spring, sat down and cried, and then I felt thirsty; 
and when I looked for the gourd that hangs on the 
nail in the pine tree it was gone. So I have come for 
the gourd.” 

“Dat’s Billy’s carlesomeness ; dar’s de gourd, honey, 
in de watah bucket. Miss Marg’retta, you looks ez 
sweet ez dem flowers dat’s reposin’ on yo’ bres’. I 
bin heahin’ erbout you. Dey tell me de bows jes’ 
cum in drobes futto see you. De fac’ is, you is mo’ 
beau’ful an’ beau’ful ev’y day. Dey tells me dat de 
young marsters cum fum Balt’mo’ ter see you; how- 
some-eber, I heah dat Mars John Charles Dickinson, 
fum Queens Anne’s County,, is yo’ favorite. He ! 
He ! He ! Dat’s what Miss Osman say. Got uh new 


[ 106 ] 



I 







* 






















Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 

ring on yo 7 fingah, too; but Ole Mars ain 7 gwine ter 
let you merry anybody ceppin uh President er sompin 7 
like dat. Chile, lemmy tell yo 7 fortune ? 77 

“All right, Mammy Haney. 77 

“Do you wan’ uh long fortune er uh short for- 
tune ? 77 

“Well, a short one to-day and to-morrow I will 
come and get the long one.” 

“Mistis, I will teck yo 7 lef 7 han 7 ter-day. How 
does you keep yo 7 han’s so white an 7 dimpled? Dar 7 s 
many uh one ub dem young men dat fox hunts wid 
Ole Mars dat wud gib deah hyarts ter hole dis han 7 ; 
deed dey wud. One, two, three, fo 7 five, six, sebin, 
eight, nine, ten, 7 lebin, twelbe, thutteen. Yo 7 gwine 
ter merry uh king an 7 hab thutteen chillun. Billy, 
go out an 7 see how dem hens is hatchin. 77 

When Billy was sent out Margaretta thought it was 
going to be a long fortune, so she switched the conver- 
sation off and said, “Has Billy got religion? We 
haven 7 1 heard of his being at Major Budd 7 s store of 
late, fiddling and banjo playing. 77 

Haney said, “Billy goes ter Mr. Dawson 7 s sto 7 now, 
uh mile fudder up de rode, futto sell his eggs, mus 7 rat 
hides an 7 coon hides. You see Mage Rudd fell out 
wid Billy, an 7 7 twuz all uh accident. It wuz dis way : 
Fus 7 place Mage Rudd sol 7 Billy some eggs dat cos 7 
2 cents uh piece. He say dat de breed ub chickens 


[ 107 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


dat dey cum fum once laid uh gole egg. Well, 
Billy’s eggs all hatched ducks. Billy wuz furisome, 
an’ wen’ right ’way ter Mage Budd’s sto’, but he got 
sich uh way ub twissin’ his tongue dat he twiss out ub 
it by sayin’ dat somebody swap eggs wid Billy. Cose 
den I molested him boutin dem duck eggs, an’ he say, 
“Nancy, I hab got uh ve’y fine new lantern fuh sale, 
an’ I wan’ ter sell you one.’ Sez I, ‘Why; I’s got 
uh good lantern.’ Well,’ sez he, ‘Billy’s so black 
you wan’ uh fus’-class lantern ter stick outin de win- 
der in de mawnin’ ter see ef’n day is broke !’ Now, 
qual’ty people wud nebba talk dat way, an’ dat’s what 
made Billy skeer dem frogs ub Mage Budd’s.” 

“Well, what did Billy do?” 

“Well, Mage Budd had uh empty mullasses barrel 
in front ub de sto’, an’ de flies wuz swa’min’ erroun’ 
hit same ez uh swa’m ub bees, an’ Mage Budd’s toad- 
frogs wuz almos’ ez thick ez de flies, an’ dey wuz 
ketchin’ de flies same ez de debbil ketches sinnahs. 

“Well, ’twuz erboutin sundown when Billy cum 
erlong an’ seed dem flies an’ frogs. So he got uh 
piece ub ole rope, hide hissef ’hine de barrel, an’ den 
he twiss dat rope thoo de grass ezactly like uh snake. 
De frogs dat wan’ full ub flies an’ cud jump went all 
ober dat sto’, in de butter, mullasses, sugar, brakin’ 
eggs, lamp chimneys, nockin’ down bottles, an’ wussa 
still, dey jumped ’roun’ Mage Budd’s ole maiden sis- 


[ 108 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


tuh’s feets an’ ankles, tell she tuck up huh dress like 
she gwine wadin’ . Mars Pinckney say she mussa 
tho’t de frogs wuz garter snakes. But de mos’ 
’stressin’ part ub all wuz de frogs dat wuz full ub 
flies an’ cudn’ hop; dey los’ deah mines — bellerd 
an’ wep’, wep’ an’ bellered wuss dan uh pon’ full ub 
horngry calves. Uh big frog pon’ wuz nufiin ter hit. 

“Mage Budd ’low he didn’ keer fuh de flies, er de 
things dat wuz ’stroye'd in de sto’, but he did keer 
fuh dem frogs ; dat he wuz uh widderer, wid no 
chillun, an’ summer ebenin’s dem frogs ’mused him; 
an’ lars, but not leas’, dat he wuz keepin’ dat rope 
fuh Billy , an’ when he kotch him he wud meek him 
jump leap frog.” 

Billy fully intended going to the debate, but on his 
way he met a lot of coon hunters, forgot the debate 
and returned to his quarter about daylight, when he 
explained matters to Mammy Nancy. She said, “You 
shan’t hab yo’ pipe fuh uh monf.” Whereupon 
Billy, to melt Mammy Nancy, tuned his banjo, 
twanged it and sang: 

“Didn’ my Lawd d’liver Daniel? 

D’liver Daniel, d’liver Daniel. 

Didn’ my Lawd d’liver Daniel? 

An’ why not ev’y man. 

“He d’liver’d Daniel fum de lions’ den, 

Jo-nah fum de belly nb de whale, 

An’ de He-boo chillun fum de fiery furnace, 

An’ why not ev’y man. 

[ 109 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


“De win’ blows Eas’ an’ de win’ blow Wes’; 

It blows like de judgment day, 

An’ ev’y po’ soul dat nebba did pray 
Will be glad ter pray dat day.” 

When Billy had finished singing Nancy said, “I 
reckon you kin hab yo’ pipe, Billy, ef’n you promise 
ter jine de chuch.” And Billy promised “ter jine.” 


MARS PINCKNEY’S ’SIMMONS 


De chickens all hab gone ter roos’, de milkin’s almos’ ober; 
I heah de hooppo-will’s loud song, de rabbits in de clober, 
De ’possum gittin’ out ub bed, de coon he ’gin ter wake, 
An’ one, er bof, in Haylan’ Branch, I specks ter obertake. 

Da ain’ no moon, de stars is brite, de ’simmons ripe an’ 
sweet — 

De ve’y night fuh Traveler ter sent uh varment’s feet; 
Befo’ de roostus crow hit’s day, an’ ’fo’ de Bob White stir, 
I no I’ll heah de lubly tongue ub meh dog Traveler. 

Jes’ ez I harked him in de branch, an’ wa’k ’long de parf, 

I seed de bushes moobin’, an’ I heahd uh leetle larf; 

’Twuz den de dog cum ter de tree an’ made uh monstus 
fuss, 

An’ what wuz in dat ’simmon tree wuz wuss dan scanalous. 


[ 110 ] 


Ole Mars an y Ole Miss. 


At fus’ I tho’t hit wuz uh owl, but coon dogs don’ tree 
owls, 

An’ Traveler wuz too skeer’d ter bark, ’twuz jes’ uh stream 
ub howls; 

So den I look up in de tree, an’ settin’ ’pon uh lim’, 

Wuz uh cunnin’ leetle niggah, sorter hummin’ ub uh hymn. 

I saw ’twuz leetle Ezzy feedin’ on dem ’simmons ripe — 
De night befo’ he’d tole “De composation ub de snipe;” 

He al’ays spressify hissef in sech uh cutesome way 
Dat ev’ybody lubbed him, an’ bleebe w T hat Billy say. 

So I didn’ wan’ ter ’stress him, but meek bleebe I did, 

An’ said, “Fum Caesar’s quarters hencefof you is fuhbid;” 
An’ den dat leetle roscal say he didn’ cub fuh me, 

“Dese is Mars Pinckney’s ’simmons, an’ Mars Pinckney’s 
’simmon tree.” 

I tole him ef’n I had uh ax I’d cut de fruit tree down, 

An’ ef he fell an’ breck he neck when he struck on de 
groun’ 

Hit wouldn’ ’stress me any, kase you t’ink yo’sef so wise, 
An’ you de sort ub niggah dat de Babtis’ chuch dispise. 


[in] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“ DEM DAYS.” 


“Is this Uncle Stephen Demby?” 

“Yas, honey; dat’s meh name! I jes’ got 
in fum crabbin’. Lemmy put meh paddles 
un’er de house ter keep dese carelessom’ gre’t- 
gran’chillun ub mine fum fin’in’ ’em. Dem 
two gals, Marfy an’ Muhtilda, out da in de watah 
sorf crabbin’ is meh gran’chillun. An’ jes’ look 
at dem two boys er ridin’ dat cow ub Mars 
Pinckney’s; dem is meh gre’t-gran’chillun, an’ dey 
monstus bad. (Ef’n you don’ git of’n dat cow I’ll 
whup you till da ain’ no bref in you!) Dar’s three 
ub dem boys, an’ dey name Stephen, Saul an’ Bony- 
part, an’ like ez not de one name Bony part is ridin’ 
dat cow’s calf. Deah gre’t-gran’mammy gibs ’em 
too much cawn bred, an’ hit natchelly puts noshuns 
in deah haids.” 

“Do you live here?” 

“Yas’um; but de road don’ go no fudder. You’r 
sho’ly on de rong road, chile; dat’s de road ter de 
Boyal Oak, an’ de road you on is wha dey bin haulin’ 
oyster shells, ter fix de road you lef’.” 


[ H2 ] 



Dem two gals, Marthy an’ Muhtilda, out da in de watali sorf 
crabbin’ is meb gran’ chillun. 





Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


“Uncle Stephen, I know exactly where I am, and 
I have come to see you, and want you to tell me all 
about Talbot County before the war, so that I can put 
it in my magazine.” 

“Well, bless meh soul an’ body, an’ meh body an’ 
soul. Heh! heh! heh! Jes’ speckin’, I reckon, futto 
see Mars Pinckney ’roun’ heah; I’m sho’ he bin 
meckin’ ’mirations at yer. Uh foxhoun’ don’ lub 
uh fox hunt mo’ dan de ladies ’roun’ heah lub Mars 
Pinckney, an’ I heah Mars John Charles Tilghman 
say ter ole Mars Hickey, ‘He is ez hainsome ez de 
son ub King Dabid-Ab-so-lum, dat got kilt by uh 
mule.’ Mules wuz ornry in dem days. How, how 
you gwine ter put Talbot County in yo’ mag’zine? 
You jes’ tezin’ po’ ole Stephen. You see I’s al’ays 
libbed wid de qual’ty, an’ ain’ easy ter fool. How, 
you sho’ly ain’ got uh mag’zine?” 

“Indeed I have, dear Uncle Stephen.” 

“Well, what we gwine ter cum ter. Ef’n meh 
dear ole Missis had ebin seed one ub huh chillun 
ridin’ on one ub dem one-wheel t’ings she’d uh tuck 
an’ spanked huh an’ kep’ huh in bed fuh two weeks; 
but ter t’ink ub uh lubly young mistis like you is, 
habin’ uh mag-zine — chile, I is libbed too long. It’s 
mos’ ez bad ez ghoses an’ witches.” 

“Uncle Stephen, don’t you think I could manage 
a magazine and put the nicest sort of stories in it?” 


[ 113 .] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“Well, den, what good it gwine ter do you? I wish 
de one dat ’sploded at Petersburg had nuffin in it but 
stories. Why, honey, it blowed up an’ kilt fo’ thou- 
san’ mules, an’ I dunno how many millions ub sol- 
ders, an’ de good Lawd only nose how many planta- 
tions. Is you got uh pa? Well, chile, you will twiss 
yo’ po’ pa’s feelin’s sum ub dese days ornless you stop 
playin’ wid mag-zines.” 

“Why, Uncle Stephen, you are too old to have 
.been a soldier in the civil war.” 

“Indeed I wuz, honey, an’ I wuz skeer’d stiff! You 
see dey tuck me ter Easton, gib me toddy, ’fused me, 
an’ ’swaded me ter go. I’s got uh pension, fuh I 
drobed uh fo’-hoss mule team fuh six monfs. I didn’ 
keah fuh de wah; fac’ is, I kep’ ’way fum de battle- 
fields. I wud uh bin uh exerter, but wuz fear’d ter 
ezert! So I jes’ had ter pine fuh ole mars, ole miss, 
an’ Sookey. Sookey’s meh wife, an’ she al’ays wid ’em. 
She use ter look fuh ole mars’ specks, an’ keep de 
flies of’n ole miss.” 

“Uncle Stephen, my magazine is a kind of book 
that comes out every month and has pretty stories in 
it, and they tell me that you can tell a pretty story.” 

“Heh! heh! heh! mistis, I al’ays know’d I wuz uh 
qual’ty niggah.” 

“So I have brought you a nice bundle of tea, to- 
bacco, and a new straw hat, for I want you to tell me 


[ 114 ] 



Deah 


gre’t 


gran’ mammy gibs ’em too much 
natchelly puts noshuns in deali 


cawn-bred, 

haids. 


an’ 


hit 















































*»# 


















♦ 























Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

all about yourself and something about Talbot County 
before the war.” 

“Well, I s’pose dey name books arfter magazines, 
kase dey big soun’in’ Tings? Ps pow’ful bleeged ter 
you fuh de tea, ’baccy an’ de hat. I’ll hab ter teck 
dis sweet blue ban’ of’n de hat, kase it will skeer de 
fish an’ keep ’em fum bitin’. You mus’ be fum de 
Souf?” 

“No, I am from the North.” 

“Well, you mus’ uh had uh mammy fum de Souf, 
den.” 

“Maybe, Uncle Stephen. And now tell me some- 
thing about the Eastern Shore of Maryland, Talbot 
County, before the war.” 

“Well, hunny, I cum outin’ uh fambly dat lib wha 
you see dem tall elm, hoss chestnut an’ big oak trees. 
De place name Otwell. I wuz bo’n da — and so wuz 
meh fava an’ his fava. Meh fava’s name wuz Phil 
Demby, an’ Pawson Demby, de ’stinguis’ Babtis 
preecher, is meh brudder, an’ name arfter meh fava. 
None of my fambly wuz free niggahs, er ’longed ter 
po’ white trash. My muvva she named Phillis. Dey 
called huh Arnt Phillis; an’ she libbed at Otwell, an’ 
wuz Mars Nickey’s favorite cook. All de niggahs on 
dat plantation slep’ wid sheets on deah beds. Mars 
Nickey didn’ hab, an’ he wouldn’ hab no common 
niggahs. When de oberseers cum ter de po’ch ter git 


[ 115 ] 


Ole Mars an > Ole Miss. 


deah orders, dey al’ays stood wid deah haids unkiv- 
vered, rain er no rain; dey know’d deah place. An’ 
Chrismus Ole Mars gib all de serbents toddy, but ef’n 
dey get tipsy, he wimp ’em sho’ ! Meh muvva, Phil- 
lis, wuz de fus’ cook at Otwell. Chile, she wuz uh 
cook! but one ub de slow-paced sort. Howdays dey 
cook uh ham in fo’ hours; dem days it tuck meh 
muvva two days, an’ dem wuz Mars Hickey’s orders. 

“How-some-eber ev’yt’ing wuz slow in dem days. 
Dey use ter teck uh gre’t big silver tank dat hilt 
boutin uh gallon, er mebby two gallons, an’ fill it wid 
mint julip, an’ it had two gre’t big han’les jes’ like 
ram’s hohns on de sides. An’ Saul an’ Damon — 
dey wuz de house serbents — dey meek de julips (I 
use ter holp when dey ve’y busy, an’ tase de julip 
an’ see ef’n it sweet nufi), an’ when de gemmen cum 
in fum fox hun’in’, Saul an’ Damon wud pars ’roun’ 
de tank; an’ you kyant tell how slow dey wud drink 
fum dat tank. An’ when dinner time cum it tuck 
’em boutin fo’ hours, sometimes mo’n fo’, an’ some- 
times all nite futto eat dinner. Dey riz bees, an’ 
dey meek peach brandy, an’ dey drink what you 
call peach an’ honey. How cum dey don’ drink 
peach an’ honey dese days? Why, de ve’y bref ub 
it mecks you feel nice. 

“Fo’ de wah all de hom’ny wuz bet in uh gre’t 
big morter; de hom’ny dey mecks nowdays is nuffin 


[ 116 ] 


Ole Mars an > Ole Miss. 


ter hit. All de wheat wuz cut wid uh cradle, an’ 
when dey all in uh row swingin’ deah cradles, sayin’ 
muffin an’ lookin’ so full uh condidence, it remin’ you 
ub de fus’ ub de flood tide in de creek — mus’ go on. 
Uncle Reuben al’ays tuck de haid row. Swing he 
cradle same ez Sampson. Steambo’ts cum once uh 
week dem days, an’ dey tuck all day ter cum, an’ dey 
stay all nite, an’ go ’way nex’ mawnin’. Now dey 
cum in fo’ hours, an’ fo’ er five uh day. 

“People ebin dance slower dem days; use ter dance 
de min-e yet. Mars Tilghman co’tin’ Mis Henrietta, 
an’ he bow ter huh same ez uh tall poplar when de 
win’ blow hyard; an’ ez fuh Miss Henrietta, she jes’ ez 
graceful ez uh putty kitten, an’ stylish ez uh un- 
broken thurrybred colt. Ef’n de flo’ had uh bin 
kiwerd wid de hunard-leaf roses, an’ she wuz uh 
dancin’, she wudn’ mash one. Many uh time, thoo 
de wintah, I’b seed ’em dance. I’d bin de haid waitah 
at ‘Otwell’ ef’n I hadn’ bin so waluble futto breck de 
steers an’ colts. Ole Mars’ he had de gre’tes’ con- 
fluence in meh ’rasity, an’ I wuz al’ays ’roun’ de 
kitchen, kase, ez I befo’ tole you, meh Muvva Phillis 
de haid cook. Mam Juby, she de secon’ cook, and 
’sis’ mammy. 

“Why, hunny, ebin de peaches an’ watahmillions 
wuz bigger dem deys, kase dey didn’ grow up so fars; 
dey tuck deah time; an’ ez fuh oysters an’ fish, why 


[ 117 ] 


Ole Mars an* Ole Miss. 


dem days you cud walk out in dat cobe not fudder 
dan yo’ nees, an’ git all de oysters you wan’, an’ set 
rite at dat stake an’ pull in de fish tell you go 
’stracted, an’ de wile ducks quackin’ all ’roun’ you. 
Dat’s de stake Leetle Billy wuz uh fishin’ at when de 
shirk pull him ove’bode. Leetle Billy wuz uh ornry 
niggah, al’ays playin’ de fiddle, mus’rattin’, tellin’ 
ghose stories, fishinin’ on Sunday, an’ dancin’. Mo’n 
dat, he nebber ’longed ter de chuch, an’ it wan’ no 
use ter talk ter him. How-some-eber, ev’ybody liked 
Billy; al’ays peart, al’ays hab ’baccy in he pocket, an’ 
gib lib’ly. Billy wuz uh qua’ chap ; he wan’ lazy, but 
he didn’ lub hyard wuck. Well, he tied he bote at 
dat ve’y stake , an’ jes’ fuh fun, befo’ de tide tu’n 
an’ de fish bite, he put uh gre’t big sorf crab on he 
hook, flung de bait out, tied de line ’roun’ he leg, 
tuck his fiddle out an’ ’mence ter play jigs an’ sich 
like. Bimeby he wen’ uh sleep, an’ uh shirk cum 
’long an’ tuck dat bait, pulled po’ Billy ove’bode, an’ 
Billy wen’ uh skeetin’, bobbin’ up an’ down like uh 
passel ub ’scovey ducks bavin’ deah sef, an’ prayin’ 
fas’ ez he cud git de watah fum he mouf . Billy say 
he wuz jes’ prayin’ dat de fiddle wudn’ git los’, but 
Cap’n Stitchberry sez he nebba heahd uh moanah 
pray mo’ pow’ful. Mo’n dat, ef’n Cap’n Stitchberry 
hadn’ cum ’long in he pungy wid uh load ub oyster 
shells, an’ kotch Billy when he wuz fai’ly sailin’ ’long, 


[ 118 ] 



I’d bin de liaid waitak at “Otwell” ef’n I badn’ bin so waluble 
futto breck de steers an’ eolts. Ole M 'rs bad de gret’s 
confluence in meh ’rasity. 





• ■ 















' 





























































. 



















. 


' 






























Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


do shirk wud liab ’stroyed Billy. Mars Innis Ran- 
dolph says, ‘Dey kyant tell whedder de niggah wuz 
nh fishinin’ er de fish wuz uh niggerin’.’ Dat’s de 
way people gits talked boutin dat fishes on Sunday. 

“Dem days dear ole Mars Rickey had seben sons, 
an’ dey all wen’ Souf in de wah; all got kilt ’ceppin’ 
Mars Pinckney, name arfter uh Bishop, an’ he wuz 
de wiles’ an’ de gayes’, an’ he didn’ git uh scratch. 
Dem chillun gittin’ kilt, wid me leabin’ Ole Mars, 
meek him seek an’ breck his hyart. (’Skuse dese teahs, 
young mistis!) So he died! Meh pappy Demby use 
ter ’long ter Mars Rickey’s fava, an’ dribe de fo’-in- 
han’ an’ rid’ ’hine in de saddle when Mars Rickey 
drobe in de gig. Bof ub ’em wuz name Rickey, an’ 
he wuz de fif’ Rickey dat wuz bo’n at Otwell. I heah 
Beetle Billy say dat he heah Mars Tilghman say dat 
he heah Mr. Stevens say — de man dat use ter run 
Mars Rickey’s win’ mill — dat de fus’ Mars Rickey 
cum ober de bay wid uh man name Klumbus, an’ 
dey ’scover Talbot Kounty. Dat wuz in de time ub 
de Petracks. [Patriarchs.] 

“Dem days dey had what you call gigs. ’Cose you 
nebber saw one ub dem ole-time gigs. Well, you 
almos’ had ter git up in ’em wid uh leetle ladder, 
dey so tall an’ stylish. Dey wuz fuh two hosses tandy, 
one in de shaf’, de udder in de lead. Dat’s de way 
dey wen’ co’tin’, an’ dey wo’ silk stockin’s, an’ no 


[ ] 


Ole Mars an\ Ole Miss. 

pants, ’ceppin’ ter deah knees. Pappy say ev’ything 
wuz slow in dem days, ’ceppin’ de race hosses, fox- 
hounds, an’ de young; an’ de ole marsters, dey luck 
so peart an’ ’squisit’ in deah silk coats an’ socks, silk 
all ober, dat de young ladies cudn’ resis’ ’em. Dem 
days som’times dey had three er four wibes. One 
mistis hardly hab de hunnysuccle growin’ ober huh 
grabe ’fo’ dey git annurr wife. I had five wibes meh- 
sef. Heh! Heh! Heh! 

“When Pawson Demby, meh brudder, got ’ligion, 
den I got ’ligion. ’Fo’ dat I use ter ride race hosses, 
an’ me an’ Mrs. Rodgers’ ISTed, an’ Mars Rickey’s 
Big Billy (you see dey had two Billys, an’ dey use 
ter call one Big Billy an’ de udder Beetle Billy) use 
ter play de fiddle, an’ two waitahs fum Myrtle Grobe, 
Ilesakiah Sprouts an’ John Poney, use ter play de 
flute an’ banjo, an’, hunny, people use ter cum fum 
Kyarline an’ Qweens Anne’s County futto heah us 
play, ‘Wha You Gwine, Sistah Sue?’ ‘Rosin de Bow,’ 
‘Debbil ’mong de Tailors,’ ‘Yaller Cow,’ an’ sich like. 

“Meh deah chile, I cud tell you heap mo’ ’boutin 
dem days; but when I look ober da — Ole Mars’ gone, 
all de hoss ches’nut, elms an’ poplars (dey call dem 
Lombardy poplars) dead — de apple an’ de peach ar- 
chard ’stroyed wid age, de cobe wha dey use ter 
swim de hosses so shaller dat uh kildee kin wa’k ’cross, 
an’ wussa yit, de man what wuz wonce uh oberseer 


[ 120 ] 



SCIPIO JONAS JONES AND NIMROD, 







































































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


libbin’ in de ole bouse, how you ’speck I feel ? An’ 
much ez I lub de ole place, I’s ’fear’d ter go da; fuh 
dey tell me Leetle Billy plays de fiddle an’ dances in 
de yard sometimes, an’ he bin dead six monfs nex’ 
harves’. Ef’n I hadn’ preserbation in meh hyart, an’ 
’long ter de chuch, I’d be ’fear’d ter lib heah. Do you 
’long ter de chuch ? Ef’n you don’ git salbation rite 
’way, den yo’ mag’zine will bloom jes’ like de blos- 
soms on dem crabapple trees, an’ you will long fuh 
de chuch jes’ ez much ez uh hen longs fuh huh los’ 
chickens. Ef’n I hadn’ jine de chuch I, tu, mout 
be uh ghose like po’ Billy — he died fum eatin’ tu 
much watahmillion he stole — an’ I mout uh bin wid 
him. 

“Ef’n Ole Mars wuz libbin’ dem crabapple trees 
wud hab uh new fence ’roun’ dem. Das wha’ he 
hurried Cicero, he favorite p’inter dog. Hunny, I 
will nebber fogit dat name; I recommember it jes’ 
ez well ez I recommember yistiddy. All de niggahs 
in de mansion call him Cis, an’ it meek Ole Mars 
’stracted. He stan’ us all, young an’ ole, leetle an’ 
big, Aunt Phillis, tu, all in uh line, befo’ de po’ch, 
an’ he say : Hem me, ef’n I don’ sell you all ter 
Georgy ef’n you don’ stop callin’ dat dog Cis. He’s 
uh gre’t dog, an’ name arfter uh gre’t man; I won’ 
hab it. I will wuck de plantation wid free niggahs 
’fo’ I hab it.’ An’ he tell de leetle niggahs dey 


[ 121 ] 


Ole Mars an ? Ole Miss. 

kyant play ’roun’ de po’cli full uh monf ef’n dey don’ 
learn ter call dat dog Cicero. Den lie meek us all 
say arfter him, C-i-c-e-r-o, C-i-c-e-r-o, C-i-c-e-r-o — 
Cicero ! 

“When he wuz uh young dog, boutin two year ole, 
Ole Mars cum fum partridge shootin’ one day, an’ all 
de dogs jump out de wagon at de po’ch ’ceppin’ Cic- 
ero ; he wuz almos’ tu tired an’ sleepy ter mobe. But 
when Mammy Phillis call him he got hongry rite 
’way; jump out an’ struck he haid ’gin de iron 
scraper dey teck de mud of ’n deah boots wid, an’ kill 
hissef . Hongry an’ thusty ez Ole Mars wuz, he wep’ ! 
An’ he say, ‘I wan’ you an’ Reubin ter dig uh grabe 
un’er dem crabapple trees, an’ in de mawnin’ we will 
burry him.’ An’ so de nex’ mawnin’ IJncle Reubin 
an’ I wuz stan’in’ by de grabe meddowtatin’, an’ heah 
wuz me, heah wuz Uncle Reubin, an’ heah wuz Cis. 
Pres’ny Marster cum an’ put Cis in de grabe, an’ I 
thowd uh spade full ub uth on Cis; an’ Uncle Reubin 
riz up his haid, an’ he say, ‘Mars Hickey, ain’ you 
gwine ter say nuffin ?’ An’ Mars Hickey he luck 
like his hyart wud breck, an’ he say ‘Huffin, Reubin !’ 
Den Uncle Reubin thowd in uh spade full ub uth, 
lean on he shovel an’ sorter whispuh like, ‘Den I will 
say he wuz uh good ole dog !’ 

“Marster’s favorite dogs wuz houn’s; he lub ’em so he 
nebber low you ter call uh houn’ uh dog. An’ he 


[ 122 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


had seben hosses dat done nuffin but hunt ober dem 
dogs; an’ dey wuz hosses, fuh it tuck uh hoss ub 
quality ter kerry him ; he wuz uh pow’ful man. Fus’ 
you read de Bible, hunny, boutin de time King Dabid 
wuz all dress up in his new nuniform an’ whup de 
Flistins, an’ den teck uh look at Ole Mars’ pictur, you 
sho’ly wud think King Dabid favo’d Ole Mars, he so 
hainsome ; an’ Mars Pinckney de ve’y spit ub him ! 
When Mars Nickey git on he hun’in’ close he glitter 
jes’ same ez uh star! Yaller wes’ (yaller wuz he fa- 
vorite color), no pants ’ceppin’ ter de nees, an’ dey 
yaller; an’ green welwet cote — bless meh soul an’ 
body, an’ meh body an’ soul, he look jes’ like King 
Solomon mus’ uh look when he wen’ struttin’ arfter 
annurr wife. An’ when he blow he hohn an’ you 
heah de houn’s moanin’ an’ Jedge Kyarmichael’s, 
Mars Lloyd’s, Kun’l Winders, an’ Mars Tilghman’s an’ 
all de qual’ty dogs cummin’ troo de cawn fields almos’ 
nockin’ down de cawn, an’ all ub ’em carryin’ uh 
chune, chile you’d almos’ wish yo’sef uh houn’ ! 
Yas, indeed, hunny, dem wuz days futto recommem- 
ber. An’ sich hosses Ole Mars had; dey jes’ jump 
an’ hunt. Da ain’ no hosses dese days like de hosses 
dem days. Fuh instinct, like Don Won, Black Kite, 
Jew-drap, Junius, Fanny Esler, an’ Sky Lark. Jes’ 
cum in meh quarter an’ I’ll show de pictur ub dem 


[ 123 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss . 

hosses. I done lef’ ’em ter Mars Pinckney when I 
die ; you see, I wan’ ter keep ’em in de fambly. 

“Mars Rickey had he quare ways, tu, jes’ like ud- 
der people. Puh instinct, he wud nebber lite he 
cigah fum uh match, al’ays fum uh cole uh fire, stuck 
on uh fork; an’ I lub ter tote de fork ter him — sho’ 
futto gimmy uh levy. When he shabe he nebber 
look at uh glass; jes’ wa’k all ’roun’ de room med- 
dowtatin an’ shabin’, an’ shabin’ an’ meddowtatin’, 
kase he wo’ no whiskus, an’ ’spise uh beard. One 
time I nebber will fogit; Mars Jimmy cum fum 
Woodstock, had his fiddle in de kerridge an’ wuz full 
ub peartness. He wuz dribin’ Robbin an’ Red Bird 
tandy togedda — jes’ cum futto see he pa — an’ tho’t 
he wuz ve’y fine wid uh mustache on he lip. Ole 
Mars wuz in uh fine umuh, wid uh barsket full ub 
mushrooms on he ahms, but when he see dat mus- 
tache on Mars Jimmy, he say, cussin: “You kyant 
lite tell you cut dat hyah orf.” 

“I recommember one thing mo’ I fogot. Ef you 
wants ter git uh good view ub de ribber, an’ be tu fur 
fum de house ter heah Billy’s fiddle, jes’ teck dat parf, 
an’ hit’s uh nice leetle wa’k ter dat grobeub cedar trees, 
an’ when you gits da you will see what’ll s’prise you. 
Ole Marster lubbed ev’yt’ing dat wuz good — an’ da’s 
wha he hurried he good an’ favorite foxhoun’s. I 
kyant read, but I nose ev’y name on dem lioun’s loom - 


[ 124 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

stone poses. He nebber done anyt’ing ’dout hit 
rashnal, an’ he sho’d dat ’sponsibility when he name 
he foxhoun’s. Lite-foot wuz nh booful houn’; neck 
almos’ ez long ez uh goose’s, an’ sich long, sorf ears, 
gre’t big brown eyes, an’ sech uh signifyin’ ’spression 
’bout he haid, dat when he los’ de sent, an’ bay an’ 
look at de sky, hit made yer raal sad. He wuz so 
swif’ an’ nimble dat he skeercely tech de uth, an’ 
hardly bresh de jewdraps fum de clober. 

“Chimes had uh tongue dat wuz ez sweet ez uh 
martingale’s, same ez uh bell. Jefferson wuz uh gran’ 
feller, white all ober, ’ceppin’ uh yaller spot on he 
lef’ side, not much bigger dan uh new moon. He wuz 
ve’y stylis’ an’ clean, ’pear’d like he wuz 
dressup all de time. He wuz ez brabe ez Mars 
Pinckney, an’ ez gentle ez uh lam’ — ’ceppin’ uh black 
dog cum ’long; den da wuz trubble. Mars Hickey 
didn’ like nuffin black hissef, ’ceppin’ de niggahs, so 
he ’cided ter hab no mo’ black houn’s er black sheep 
on de plantation, all full de lub ub Jefferson. 

“But Ole Mars had one houn’ he lub mos’ ; he wan’ 
so pow’ful fas’, but he wuz al’ays true. Ef de sent 
wuz cole, er ef’n it wuz uh los’ sent, you’d heah ’em 
say, Wait tell Jerry cum ’long, he will pick it up;’ 
an’ de young an’ de ole houn’s had condidence in 
him, an’ ’spected him. His name wuz Jerry-Myah, 
an’ Ole Mars say he gib him dat name kase Jerry- 
Myah wuz uh profit.” 

[ 125 ] 


Ole Mars an* Ole Miss. 


DAT CHRISMUS CAKE. 


Scipio Jones say dey gwine ter hab uh cake walk 
An’ uh hus’in’ Mars John’s cawn — it wuz ev’ybody’s talk, 
So dey ’pinted uh cummittee ter ’quire ’bout de cake 
Ter be raal sho’ dat Scipio wuz makin’ no mustake. 

He al’ays foun’ out ev’yt’ing, an’ yet he wuz no good, 

An’ ef’n he tried ter tell de truf, wuz nebber ondastood; 
Fuh de ghoses an’ de witches he lubbed ter talk erbout 
Wuz al’ays in de cow’s hohns when udder people out. 

De cummittee went uh ’quirin’ an’ dey foun’ dat Sistuh 
Chew 

Had tole de plum-cake secret ter only one er two; 

An’ Scipio he lis’en while she milk de cows an’ say 
Dat Mistis gwine ter meek uh cake dat’s walked fuh 
Chrismus Day. 

So Mistis mixed de Chrismus cake an’ fill it full ub plums, 
An’ Scipio look in de stobe an’ stuck in it his thum’s. 

De heat wuz so ornple’sant an’ bu’n dat roscal so 
He scream an’ cry, “Aunt Phillis cool de thum’s ub 
Scipio.” 

When Mistis saw de Chrismus cake an’ heahd ’bout dem 
thum’s 

She say, “Dat niggah Scipio shan’t ebin hab de crum’s;” 
An’ when dat walk wuz ober you cud see rite on he face — 
Don’ stick yo’ thum’s in plum cake an’ git yo’sef dis- 
grace. 

Da ain’ no use ub talkin’; it’s al’ays out ub place 
Ter stick yo’ thum’s in anyt’ing ter ebin git uh tase — 
Ornless you bin inwited, an’ den it’s al’ays bes’ 

Ter wait an’ hab cool fingahs an’ eat wid all de res’. 

[ 126 ] 


Ole Mars an 1 Ole Miss. 


WHEN SAUL RUN ERWAY. 


Miss Marg’retta wuz ve’y fon’ ub Saul, an* when 
he run erway hit ’stress huh pow’ful. Uh showman 
cum ’long wid uh circus an’ ’swaded po’ Saul ter go. 
Miss Marg’retta teach him ter read an’ rite, kase 
da wuz recommembrances clustah’d ’roun’ Saul’s 
mammy dat made Miss Marg’retta fon’ ub de chile. 
Lars’ week I had uh lettah fum de po’ boy, rote fum 
Balt’mo.’ Mars Pinckney red hit fuh me, an’ hit 
say dat when de circus got ter Balt’mo’ de showman 
sot him ter wuck feedin’ de snakes. Saul’s letter 
spressify dat he lef’ dat circus in uh run ! Saul al’ays 
wuz smart. Lie! He! He! Ef’n he had fed dem 
snakes, he mite bin ’dieted like LTncle Snake-bit Jim. 

Arfter uh few days Saul say he got de place ub 
waitah on uh tugboat; uh nice place, but de lettah say 
he wuz so sad an’ lonesom’ he wuz mos’ dead. (’Skuse 
meh cryin’, Muhtilda.) He say he misses de ribber 
so — d e cluckin’ hens, crowin’ roostus, de calbes 
moanin’ fuh deah ma’s, de sweet little skippin’ lam’s 
an’ de singin’ birds— but he say he mos’ miss Mars 
Hickey’s houn’s, an’ dat he will nebber refuse ter 
hunt fuh hens’ nesses fuh he aunty ef’n he kin git 


[ 127 ] 


Ole Mars art 7 Ole Miss. 


home, but be sho’ Ole Mars won’ let bis foot tech 
Woodstock. 

Fus’ I tho’t ub gwine ter Ole Mistis, but she so 
sad I ’cided not ter trubble huh. Muhtilda, she will 
nebber git ober de deaf ub Mars Francis. Ev’y day 
befo’ he died she teck uh barsket on huh ahm, pahr 
cissers in huh han’, an’ go ter de gyarden befo’ de 
jewdraps of’n de flowers, an’ wid dem cissers she wud 
cut wiolets, heal’ trope, ’benas, sweet-lizziums, roses 
an’ udder sweet flowers, tell de barsket full. Den 
Mistis wud meek ’em in bokays, an’ meek me ty ’em 
wid lamp wick. You see hit’s sorf, an’ don’ squench 
de flowers. Dem days I had ter put one ub de bokays 
in ev’y room, but dese days she don’ hab no bokays; 
jes’ puts all dem flowers ev’y mawnin’ on Mars 
Francis’ grabe. 

Whenebber I tho’t ub po’ Saul meh hyart got sick ; 
’pears ter me ’twuz sick all de time. So I wa’k up an’ 
down de gyarden prayin’ sorf ter mehsef, thinkin’ an’ 
thinkin’, so I ’eluded ter see Ole Mars, an’ bine meh 
haid up’n uh hankcheah an’ wen’ ter see Ole Mars 
erboutin Saul. He wuz gwine fox huntin’, wuz settin’ 
in de hall, Damon wuz puttin’ on he spuhs, when I 
wa’k in, made uh curchysy an’ cummenc’ ter cry an’ 
limp. Ole Mars lif ’ up he hainsome face an’ say : 

“Well, Sookey, what’s de matter?” 

I say, “I heahd fum Saul; it meek me so ’stressed 


[ 128 ] 



So I bine meh liaid up'n uh hankcheah an’ wen’ ter see Ole Mars 

boutin Saul. 




Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


an’ po’ly, Marster. He say lie so rejected an’ lone- 
som , dat his hyart mos’ breck. He wan’ ter cum 
home.” 

Den Marster cuss an’ say: “Wha de scan’lus 
scoun’l at?” 

An’ I say wid meh hankcheah ter meh eyes, 
“BaltW.” 

Den Ole Marster say: “Sookey, Saul’s muvva 
Haney (yo’ sistah) wuz uh splendid ’ooman; nuss’d 
yo’ Miss Marg’retta when she had de scarlet fevah. 
Saul wuz uh baby, an’ she mos’ fogot Saul, she wuz 
so faithful ter yo’ Miss Marg’retta.” 

Den I say: “ ’Zac’ly so, precisely, Marster!” 

Den he say: “Haney kotch de fevah an’ died; 
yo’ Miss Marg’retta wuz so ’stracted she mos’ ’dopted 
dat chile — tech him ter read an’ rite.” Den Mars 
Hickey cuss ergin an’ say: “Eddication mecks nig- 
gahs bad!” 

Den I say: “So hit do, Marster, so hit do; fuh hit 
sut’ny meek Saul bad. Fuh he wuz riz so careful. 
Miss Marg’retta ebin bo’t him uh nanny-goat fuh uh 
wet nuss, an’ dey got so fon’ one nerr dat when Saul 
wud tottle outin de quartah de goat wud ’mejately 
nanny, twinkle huh little tail jes’ like uh aspine leaf/ 
run up ter de chile, an’ he wud set un’er dat goat, 
nuss huh hissef, an’ pat he han’s on de goat’s sides. 
It mecks me think ub yo’ son Mars Francis what died. 


[ 129 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


I nuss him tell he so big he hab teef. When he wuz 
horngry he wud run up ter me same ez uh little lam’, 
pat meh bresses when he nussin’, same ez Saul did 
de goat’s sides, an’ sometimes wben he feel sassy — 
mos’ got ernuff (jes’ playin’ wid de milk) — he wud 
bite me. An’ many uh time I had ter smack him 
hyard; an’ den his brite eyes, brite ez uh fish-hawk’s, 
but big an’ sorf, wud fill up wid teahs. Den he wud 
git in meh lap, pat meh ole face an’ say, ‘Mammy! 
Mammy!’ play wid an’ put he fingah froo meh ear- 
ring, jes’ ez gentle an’ lu'bbin ez uh cherry pin er 
serrypin. My! he little fingah jes’ ez smoobe ez de 
inside ub uh oyster shell. Den I sing, ‘Git on bode, 
little chillun.’ Den he go ter sleep, an’ he bref on 
meh cheek jes’ ez sorf ez de down on uh goslin’.” Den 
I say, “Mars Mckey, he wuz de ve’y spit ub you!” 

Den Mars JSTickey teck out his silk hankcheah, wipe 
he weepin’ eye, trem’lin mouf, an’ he say, “Sookey, 
teck uh seat!” 

Jes’ think ub meh settin’ down befo’ Ole Mars! 
Den he teck uh pinch ub snuff, th’ow some on de 
flounces ub he shut, call Damon an’ say, “Bring me 
some peach an’ honey!” 

Den he say: “I will ’struct Cap’n Stitchberry, de 
fus’ time de Margaret Jane sails full Balt’mo’, futto 
bring Saul home, but he kyant lib heah wid meh good 
an’ faithful serbents; he got ter lib at Tausley,’ drap 


[ 130 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

cawn, plough — be wuf sompin’. Kyant hab any mo’ 
boots. Tho’ Nancy wuz his mother, got ter weah 
shoes; I only gib de bes’ serbents boots !” 

Muhtilda, I jes’ natchelly swep’ de flo’ wid meh 
curchysys, I feel so thankful. An’ when I lef’ I say: 
“Meh Marster, yo’ mo’ an’ mo’ like Mars Francis 
ev’y day; same brite eyes, like uh fish-hawk’s, but sorf 
an’ big!” 

Den Ole Mars teck nubba pinch ub snuff, dust he 
shut flounces wid it, cut hissef on de leg wid he ridin’ 
whup an’ say: “Sookey, I change meh mine; when 
Saul cum back he kin wuck in de gyardin wid yo’ 
husban’, Stephen.” 

When I wen’ out de do’ da wuz Cap’n Stitchberry 
stan’in’ befo’ de steps wid he haid orneover’d waitin’ 
fuh his orders fum Mars Nickey; Stephen wuz holdin’ 
Sylph, Marster’s favorite mare; Music, Jerry-Myah, 
Sweet-lips, Jefferson, Chimes, an’ all de res’ ub de 
houn’s (Ole Mars wudn’ let you call ’em dogs) wuz 
playin’ erroun’ Stephen, chunin’ up, an’ Sylph wuz 
almos’ crazy fuh Ole Mars ter git in de saddle — she 
jes’ scorn de y earth when she gallopin’ an’ cud almos’ 
jump ober de moon. Well, I felt ez prowd an’ happy 
ez Sylph an’ de houn’s did, kase, Muhtilda, ev’ything 
look’d lubly ter me. So I meek up meh mind I ain’ 
gwine ter scold Stephen any mo’ — he did look so 
peart, holdin’ Sylph wid uh yaller wes’ Ole Marster 


[ 131 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


jes’ gib him. But what meek me mos’ happy, I heahd 
de wabes moanin’, I luck at de ribber, an’ da wuz 
de Margaret Jane wid huh sails sot, jes’ prancin’. I 
knew’d what dat signify — so hit won’ be long befo’ 
Saul cum back. 

Saul sing songs, play de hohn dat Little Billy gib 
him, wid locks an’ keys, dances, too. How-some-eber, 
hit’s jes’ what de qual’ty do; but da ain’ nuffin 
wichious erboutin Saul, an’ I sut’ny has miss him 
pow’ful. Da ain’ uh houn’ on dis place dat ain’ look 
sad sence Saul lef’. When dey cum home wid deah 
sore feet, ears an’ legs all scratch up, full ub briars, 
Saul, ’doutin Ole Mars habin’ ter tell him ev’y day, 
biles uh pot ub squaw-root, baves dem houn’s feet an’ 
legs, an’ you kin see dem settin’ ’roun’ waitin’ fuh 
deah turn. 

Heah cum Ole Miss now ; look at dem chickins an’ 
de cows all lookin’ at huh — ub cose meckin’ mirations 
ter deahsebs erbout huh. Dat lady bellin’ wid uh 
barsket on huh ahm an’ all dem keys on huh ap’on 
strings, is Miss Betsey Orsman, de housekeeper. Dey 
bin ter kivver all dat grabe ub Mars Francis wid flow- 
ers — ’ceppin’ de toomstone. De vusses on hit ev’y 
serbent in dis house has larnt. Think ub dat ! 

“Kyant you say ’em, Aunt Sookey?” 

“Yas, indeed, chile, dat I kin; but I will arsk Miss 
Betsey arfter Ole Miss gits by. Honey, she’s uh 


[ 132 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

’citer; she jes’ gibs huhsef up ter glory when she 
speechifyin’. I will ax huh kase she likes ter say it. 

“Miss Betsey, will you say dem vusses what’s on 
Mars Francis’ toomstone?” 

“Why, certainly, Sookey; now listen good: 

“The seasons as they fly, 

Snatch from us in their course, year after year 
Some sweet connection, some endearing tie. 

The parent, ever honored, ever dear, 

Claims from the filial breast the pious sigh; 

A brother’s urn demands the filial tear, 

And gentle sorrows gush from friendship’s eye. 
To-day we frolic in the rosy bloom 
Of jocund youth — to-morrow knells us to the tomb.” 

“Miss Betsy is an ole maid, Muhtilda. De reason 
she’s wa’kin’ fum us so slow is kase she’s meddow- 
tatin’. Dey tell me dat one time Cap’n Stitchberry 
wuz in lub wid huh, but he gib huh up kase she tu 
fon’ ub vusses; an’ he tell Mars Pinckney dat she 
lubbed him tu much. She’s ve’y fon’ ub Mars Pinck- 
ney, an’ don’ mine his teasin’, so de udder day he tole 
huh — 

“Da nebber wuz uh goose so gray but soon er late 
Wud fine some wan’rin’ gander fuh uh mate.” 

“Flow, wan’ dat sassy? 

“Saul wuz pow’ful fon’ ub cracklin’-pone wid mul- 
lasses, an’ I gwine dis minit futto meek uh pone fuh 


[ 133 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


dat po’ boy. I’s bin watchin’ de ribber all de 
mawnin’. It wudn’ s’prise me ef’n de Margaret Jane 
cum in de ribber befo’ de sun sot; so don’ you go 
home, Muhtilda. Den I will sen’ full Little Billy 
futto tell us some stories; Susan fum Mars Carroll’s 
is cummin ober — ub cose Ezra Yiney will keep com- 
p’ny wid huh; an’ lars’, but not leas’, Stephen got 
three dozen sorf crabs, six watahmillions an’ two ole 
hens I kilt yistiddy dat had stopped layin’. So we 
will hab uh happy time eben ef’n Saul don’ cum ter 
night. 

“Dar’s Billy now, talkin’ ter Juba Viney; got his 
banjo hung ’roun’ his neck. Dem’s mus’rat hides he’s 
got tied ’roun’ his wais’ ; gwine ter Mage Rudd’s sto’, 
I ’specks. O — h, Billy; we are ’speckin’ Saul dis 
eb’nin’. Kyant you cum ober, sing us some songs 
an’ play us some chunes arfter Stephen goes ter set 
his net? He rejects ter you bein’ so pus-nal wid de 
witches;* ain’ fogib you yit fuh gittin’ up’n dat 
’simmon tree an’ sassin’ Uncle Caesar Butler.”f 

Billy knew Aunt Sookey would have something 
good for supper, and knew that she doted on Saul, so 
he soon turned up at her quarters, and quickly asked 
for Uncle Stephen, whom he knew would not welcome 
him. 

• See Little Billy’s Pumpkin. 

+ See Mars Pinckney’s ’Simmons. 


[ 134 ] 


Ole Mars arC Ole Miss. 


“Da lie is, jes’ paddlin’ liis boat fum de sho;” 
responded Aunt Sookey. “Gwine ter set bis net.” 

Billy smelt the frying crabs, and asked in apparent 
ignorance: “Is you had supper, Aunt Sookey?” 

“Ho indeed, honey; de lard jes’ cummenc’ ter bile.” 
“Well, den, I will sing uh new chune I jes’ larnt, 
while de table gittin’ sot: 

“On Tom-big-bee ribber so fair I wuz bawn, 

In uh hut made ub leabes ub de tall yaller cawn; 

An’ dar I fus’ met wid meh Ju-la so true, 

An’ I row’d huh erbout in meh gum-tree canoe, 

Singin’ row away row, o’er de watahs so blue, 

Like uh feather we’ll float, in meh gum-tree canoe. 

“Wid meh hands on de banjo an’ toe on de oar, 

I sing ter de soun’ ub de ribber’s sorf roar; 

While de stars dey look down at meh Ju-la so true, 

An’ dance in huh eye in meh gum-tree canoe. 

Singin’ row away row, o’er de watahs so blue, 

Like uh feather we’ll float, in my gum-tree canoe.” 

“Billy, dat’s lu'bly; kyant you sing jes’ one mo’ song 
befo’ I puts de butter on dese sorf crabs?” 

“Yes’m!” 

“Sometimes I libs on de fat ub de lan; 

Sometimes I libs on de lean; 

An’ when I gits meh day’s wuck done 
I sweeps de kitchen clean. 

Den heah meh true lub weep, 

Heah meh true lub sigh, 

Way down in Callio 

Dis niggah’s bawn ter die.” 

[ 135 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


“I kyant sing an nerr vus, Aunt Sookey, kase I 
so homgry, an’ I kyant stay tu long kase I ain’ sot 
meh mus’rat gums yit, an’ I bleege ter go ter de sto’ 
futto sell dese hides. Mo’n dat, Mars Pinckney gwine 
fox hun’in’ de fus’ thing in de mawnin’ long befo’ 
de sun up.” 

Billy ate heartily, and the jamboree was broken up 
by the incoming of Uncle Stephen. Billy, to be very 
polite to Uncle Stephen, whom he knew did not like 
him, said: “Uncle Stephen, I jes’ watch you all day 
long yistiddy ketchin’ oysters; you sut’ny kin ketch 
oysters.” 

Uncle Stephen leaned wearily on his paddle and 
said: “Y-a-s, Billy! Ef’n I wuz uh chicken you wud 
watch me all night \ ” 

Billy soon departed, and when he was well into the 
darkness, twanged his banjo and sang: 

“I ain’ no tukkey buzzard, 

I ain’ no saint; 

I ain’ no tukkey buzzard, 

So glad I aint.” 


[ 136 ] 


BLACK CREEK FALLS 














Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“LET US MECK BRICK.” 

Sistus, brudders an’ chillun: Pawson Demby wuz 
’specially ’quested futto prech at de gre’t busbmeetin’ 
gwine on in Bolingbrook Neck, an’ dey sent up uli 
fo’-hoss-mule team an’ kyart full him lars’ night. He 
’quested me futto say ter de congation dat he wanted 
yo’ pray’rs fuh de gre’t cause he gwine ter prech 
erbout, an’ he also qualify me ter say his tex’ will be 
fum de book ub Deutron’my, 22d chaptah, 10th vus: 
“Thou shalt not plough wid uh ox an’ uh ass togedda.” 

Some free niggahs ’long de Choptank dat cum fum 
ITenraccah County, Firginny, is ploughin’ wid uh 
mule an’ uh ox, an’ hit’s stressin’ de Babtis’ ’roun’ de 
ribba pow’ful, kase hit’s sech uh wiolation ub de 
Scripturs. 

De witches in Haylan’ Branch is keepin’ uh good 
many sistus fum cummin’ ter de chuch Sunday nights. 
De ejections consequationly is so small I is ’fraid we 
kyant git de kyarpet fuh de pulpit by Chiasmus; but 
ev’y little bit helps, ef’n hit’s only uh rabbit’s foot, 
kase dey will sell at de festival fuh 6 cents uh dozen. 

Ez I ain’ had uh ve’y long notice, me'h discose dis 


[ 137 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ebinin’ will be breef. You will fine meh tex’ in de 
book ub Gen’sis, 11th ch’aptah, thud vus: 

“LET US MECK BRICK.” 

Den, ergin, de fif’ chaptah ub Exodus, all ub de 
sebinth vus: “Ye shall no mo’ gib de people straw 
ter meek brick, ez heahtofo’; let dem go an’ gavva 
straw fuh demsebs.” 

You all recommember dat Mars Nickey say lars ; 
New Year Day dat ef’n his serbents, young an’ ole, 
’habe demsebs well fuh uh hole yeah he gwine ter 
build ’em uh little brick chuch. Well, de serbents 
is bin monstus good fuh uh hole yeah, ’skusin’ Little 
Billy, an’ he so curisome Marster don’ mine him. 
’Sides, he muvva Nancy nuss Mars Pinckney. So 
arfter de cawn wuz hus’in’ Mars Nickey tole me an’ 
Reubin ter go ter de clay bank an’ meek boutin fifty 
thousan’ bricks, an’ dey wud be uh plenty ter build 
uh chuch dat wud hab uh real top-lofty pulpit, uh 
moaners’ corner, an’ hole boutin two hun’erd 
serbents. Mars John Chamberlain, Mars Tench 
Tilghman, Mars Samuel Dickinson holp ter buy de 
shingles an’ furnachy. 

Wuckin’ dat clay (an’ Moses wud hab praised dat 
clay), meckin’ an’ haulin’ dem bricks ter dat lubly 
cedar grove, made me think ub dis tex’ night an’ 
day, an’ I is wanted fuh uh yeah ter preach on dis 
gre’t subjec’. 

I see some dear sistus heah fum Queen Anne’s. I 
[ 138 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


s’pose you cum ober ter de bushmeetin’ in Oxford 
Keck, so I wan’ you ter ondastan what uh ’squisite 
spot Cedar Grove is fuh uh brick chuch, befo’ I git 
fudda wid meh spressifications boutin bricks. 

Sistus, da is uh little creek called Peach Blossom. 
De fus’ peach seed dat cum ter Amer’ca wuz fotch 
ober an’ planted ’long Peach Blossom Creek, Mars 
Pinckney say, erbout de time Klumbus ’skivered 
Amer’ca; dat’s why hit’s called Peach Blossom. De 
same man fotch ober some apple seed, an’ de apples 
wuz named arfter him, Catlin apples. 

Peach Blossom is erboutin uh harf mile long an’ 
uh hun’erd ya’ds wide, an’ empties inter Fausley 
Creek. De watah is fum five ter eight feet deep, de 
bottom ez clean ez de deck ub Cap’n Stitchberry’s 
schooner, de Margaret Jane, sandy, an’ ez hyard ez 
uh mule’s haid, but you kyant see de bottom ’ceppin 
heah an’ heah, kase da’s wha Mars Nickey got he 
oysters bedded, an’ da’s wha Uncle Stephen sets Mars 
Mickey’s net, ketches de spot, hogfish an’ pan rock 
dat cums in dat creek ter feed ober de oysters, an’ den 
ter meddowtate. Mos’ at de haid ub de creek is uh 
proud-lookin’ grove ub cedars; ’mong dem cedars is 
twenty cedar toomstone poses , wha Ole Mars hurried 
he good an’ favorite houn’s, an’ da’s wha de new 
Zion Chuch gwine ter be swottuated. 

Belubbed, da nebber wuz uh mo’ ’chantin’ creek! 


[ 139 ] 


Ole Mars an? Ole Miss. 


On hits banks grows lubly trees, fum de sas’fras an’ 
dogwood ter de gre’t elms, walnut an’ poplar trees. 
Sistuk Cassey, befo’ she died had uh cabin at de haid 
ub de creek; de honeysuckle an’ wile rose seeds 
strayed fum huh house all ’long de banks ub dat 
creek, an’ now de honeysuckle an’ wile roses blooms 
an’ clustus ’roun’ one nerr day an’ night — hit’s uh 
heb’nly spot. Hit don’ matter how de win’ blow, ef’n 
you paddle yo’ skiff in Peach Blossom Creek hit’s so 
cam, quiet an’ shady you kin heah de little jinny 
wrens, sparrows an’ crickets singin’. De watah looks 
so smove an’ happy when de tide go out an’ when 
de tide cum in, dat it al’ays mecks me think ub Ole 
Miss’ face; fac’ is, you jes’ wanter set down an’ muse, 
an’ you won’er why all erligeons ain’ de Babtis in 
Talbot County, ter wash deah sins erway in Peach 
Blossom. But I mus’ tu’n ter de application. 

Little Billy wucked two days dribin’ uh ox team, 
den ub cose he got tired. Mammy Nancy ’quested me 
ter arsk you all ter pray fuh him arfter de doxol’gy; 
he is ve’y bad. Ef’n Mars Nickey knew’d what he 
say he’d whup him sho’; kase he say Mars Nickey 
wud hab built dat chuch, good er bad niggahs; dat 
he tole him all dat he wanted him ter do wuz ter 
see ezactly wha de bricks wuz drapped, an’ ter be 
sho’ none ub dem bricks wuz drapped ergin dem 
houn ’ cedar pos’ toomstones. Billy fudda spressify 
dat he bleebe de chuch wuz gwine ter be uh kind 


[ 140 ] 



Ole Miss, when sweet sixteen, going to dance the minuet, 
























Ole Mars art Ole Miss. 

ub monumen’ ter be good an’ faithful houn’s an’ good 
an’ faithful serbents. 

Meh brudderin, I hab now laid de foundation. So 
I wan’ you fus’ ter persidder de pictur on de face ub 
dat lubly clock; befo’ she strike ergin I am gwine ter 
tell you who de fus’ brickmakers wuz, an’ how dey 
cum ter meek bricks. 

Way down in Egyp’ lan’ long time befo’ Klumbus 
’skivvered Talbot County, da wuz uh king named 
Eario. He wuz uh gre’t man, an’ you kin ’magin’ 
what style he lib in fum de fac’ he had six hun’erd 
wibes, two chariots fuh each wife, an’ dey nebber 
is bin able ter fine out ezactly how many hosses, mules, 
jackasses, steers, cows, sheep, goats an’ serbents he 
had; an’ he had so much ter meek him peart dat he 
got ter be uh ve’y wile man. Well, dis king had 
uh lubly daughter, de apple ub he mouf an’ de ve’y 
spit ub de king. She had uh nice ’scluded little ribba 
(I specks it wuz mos’ ez putty ez Eausley Creek) futto 
have in; she likewise had fo’ er five hun’erd han’maids, 
an’ all longed ter de qual’ty. He Bible call ’em 
damsels. I think hit’s uh good name fuh maids dese 
days, ’skusin’, ub cose, free niggahs. Well, de narra- 
tion say dat Miss Eario wen’ down ter de ribba wid 
huh damsels futto have. Hey wuz orndressin’ huh, 
ten maids wuz teckin’ de rings of’n huh ten fingahs, 
two mo’ maids wuz teckin’ huh earrings out, an’ uh 


[ 141 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


nubba teckin’ de earrings outin huh nose. (All de 
quality wo’ rings in deah noses dem days.) Jes’ ez 
she erboutin orndress — you see dey didn’ ware no 
bavin’ suits in de time ub de Petracks, an’ bad ez de 
men wuz dey didn’ bave wid de ladies; so da wuz 
sut’ny no mails ’roun’, ’ceppin’ uh monstus fine baby 
boy three monfs ole, dat wuz kivverd up wid bull- 
rushes, an’ ’rapped in flags (I s’pose de flags wuz some 
ole sorf battle-flags) — well, jes’ ez de king’s daughter 
put huh little feets in de watah ter see ef’n it tu cole, 
she heah uh chile cry. She jumped back relarmed, 
an’ say ter huh maids, “What’s dat?” Den she look 
in de bullrushes, an’ lo an’ beholst, da wuz uh cute- 
some lookin’ cradle wid flags ’roun’ hit (Is’lite flags, 
I s’pose), an’ uh baby fairly harkin’; he cryin’ so. 

Hit is s’pose by narrationists dat de ma ub de chile 
got de frog fright, kase frogs wuz so thick, an’ gittin’ 
thicker, dat dey wuz in de kitchens, smoke houses, 
parlors, tubs, cookin’ ubbins, an’ in de beds; so de 
chile’s ma meek uh sort ub deck-ober cradle ub mud, 
tar, pitch an’ beeswax, dat made hit frog-proof, an’ 
da’s wha dey sho’ly foun’ de baby. Pres’ny Miss 
Pario saw uh ooman stan’in’ neah by, so she say, “Is 
you de muvva ub dis chile?” She say, “Yes’m!” Miss 
Pario say, “Cum heah an’ nuss dis chile right ’way 
an’ I’ll pay you ter be de chile’s mammy. I’m gwine 
ter ’dopt him; he uh monstus fine chile. ’Sides I want 


[ 142 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


something futto caress; an’ ez I foun’ him in de watah, 
I’m gwine ter gib him de lubly name nb Moses, kase 
de Bible say in Egyp’ lan’ Moses is de name fuh 
watah.” 

Bimeby he grow’d up ter be uh gre’t man, an’ wuz 
ve’y friendly wid de Petracks. Pres’ny you will see 
de application. 

Well, de king say ter de Petracks, “We is gwine 
ter hab uh gre’t famin’, kase de frogs, locusses an’ 
grasshoppus is uh carryin’ on high.” So dey all ’cided 
ter buy all de cawn dat wuz riz dat yeah. Pres’ny 
heah cum de famin’, sho’ miff; den de Gyptian farm- 
ers an’ sheppards cum ter Joseph. Dey say, “Joseph, 
we horngry; we ain’ got no cawn!” Joseph right 
’way say, “I’s got plenty cawn!” So dey buy uh 
plantation ub cawn, an’ Joseph teek de money ter 
de King, an’ de King he hab uh gay time ober dat 
money ub de Is’lites. 

Kow, strange ter say, wid all de hosses, chariots, 
foxhoun’s, an’ I ’specks, fine coon dogs dat dey could 
wusship, an’ wid deah wissum tu (kase Mars Pinckney 
say dey knew’d mo’n we do) — fuh all dat dey wus- 
ship crockdiles (why, de Bible say King Solomon 
had six hun’erd wibes an’ three hun’erd crockdiles ; 
jes’ think ub dat!), el’phants, ants, bulls, butterflies, 
grasshoppus, frogs, an’ I dunno what not, an’ dey 
didn’ keer no mo’ fuh one ooman dan uh man keer 


[ 143 ] 


Ole Mars cm’ Ole Miss. 


fuh uh yaller- jacket’s nes’. Yas, indeed; dey wussliip 
’mos’ ev’ything ’ceppin’ uh damsel. Dey had drobes 
ub wibes, but dey didn’ hab no condidence in deah 
wibes. Why, ef’n dey hab uh composation ebin wid 
uh Pawson, dem Kings an’ Judges wud ’mejately hab 
deah haids cut orf. 

Well, hit cum ter pars in erboutin uh yeah dem 
po’ Is’lites cum back ter de Petracks mo’ horngry dan 
ebba, an’ tell deah tale ub ’stress. Dey say, “We 
ain’ got no money; we spend hit all fuh cawn. Our 
fodder is all ’zausted, so we fotch our cattle; we will 
gib dese cattle fuh cawn. So Joseph count de cattle 
an’ teck ’em fuh cawn. Kow, dat’s two yeahs ub de 
famine. Dar’s five mo’ yit. 

Well, hit cum ter pars uh yeah arfter dat dey cum 
ergin an’ dey say, “We ain’ got uh cent dis time , an’ 
no cattle; how-some-eber, we mus’ hab cawn; we 
kyant lib ’dout hit. So dey gib all deah plantations. 
So King Fario own all Egyp’ lan’, an’ he carry on 
higher still, jes’ scan’lus, ve’y mischevious, kase he 
own mos’ ez many plantations ez Ab’ham. 

Brudderin, uh yeah went by, an’ heah cum dem po’ 
horngry sheppards an’ farmers ergin. Dey say, “We 
almos’ starbed we so horngry.” King Fario say 
“What you got ter gimmy, now?” An’ dey say, 
“Nuffin ’ceppin’ our bodies, futto be yo’ slabes.” 

Moses wuz uh gre’t man, ve’y gre’t man (he nuss 


[ 144 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

wuz uh cullud pusson), so he look on all de time, 
stroked his whiskus, leaned on dat cutesome rod nb 
his’n an’ didn’ say nnfiin, jes’ meddowtate an’ mnse, 
muse an’ meddowtate. Now, Moses natch’ly felt 
po’ly kase he had kilt uh Gyptian de day befo’ fuh 
kickin’ uh Is’lite, one uh he people. Pres’ny heah 
cum King Fario, dribin’ fo’ jack-asses in uh chariot 
he had jes’ bought wid sum ub his cawn money. Little 
Billy say he read somewha in de Bible dat King Fario 
shuck han’s wid Moses, an’ say ter him in uh whispuh : 

“Moses, I’m gwine ter teck all dem Gyptians ez 
slabes. Dar’s such uh drouf, so many frogs, locusses 
an’ grasshoppus, da ain’ no use ter set ’em at wuck in 
de fiel’s, so I’m gwine ter meek ’em wuck hyard fuh 
dat cawn. I wan’ at leas’ uh harf million sot ter wuck 
dis day, but what dey gwine ter do ? Dat’s de conse- 
quation ! Dar’s uh gre’t deman’ fuh bricks ev’ywha, 
but meh .clay ain’ ve’y good.” 

Den Moses riz up his rod, gib it uh twiss, an’ cun- 
jured dat rod. Den dey had uh little serpent dance, 
an’ while dey wuz uh dancin’ Moses say, “You got 
’bun’ance ub straw, an’ ef’n de straw gib out you got 
plenty ub stubble.” King Fario say, “Uh case orntried 
is hyard ter justify.” Den Moses gib he rod nubba 
twiss (Little Billy say dat de rod wuz made outin 
witch hazel wood), an’ he spressify, “I’s foun’ out uh 


[ 145 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


way ter meek bricks ’doutin straw!” An’ right ’way 
dem po’ slabes wuz sot ter brick-meckin’. 

“Let us meek brick.” 

Den arfter dey bin meckin bricks ’boutin two hun- 
ger d yeah hit cum ter pars dat de profit Ex-o-dus said, 
“Ye shall no mo’ gib de people straw ter meek bricks, 
ez heahtofo’ ; let ’em go an’ gavva straw fuh dem- 
sebs.” 

Brudderin, when you gib bricks uh solid thought 
hit’s uh pow’ful subjec’. Fac’ is, we is all bricks, an’ 
made fum de same clay I is not spressifyin’ de ap- 
plication ter straw bricks, kase I dunno how dey is 
turnt ter clay. 

Bricks is our house futto dwell in an’ wusshup in 
while we libbin’, an’ our house in de groun’ tell de 
day cum when de gre’t Marster blow He hohn an’ we 
stan’ befo’ uh gate finah dan any King Sol’man ebba 
had. Belubbed, is you gwine ter try an’ swing on dat 
gate? [A voice: “Yas, Lawd!”] an’ be da ter heah 
St. Peter say “Heah cum meh chillun; lemmy call 
deah names.” Brudderin, sistus an’ little chillun, 
will he call yo’ names? 

Tilly Mink : “Brer Basmus, I’m mos’ swingin’ on 
dat gate now !” 

Well, den, meek dat boy Scipio Jones, settin’ ’side 
you, teck dat sweet-tater harness orf, an’ dat piece ub 
sheep rib outin his mouf, he chawin’, fuh uh bit. 


[ 146 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

At de lars camp meetin’ uh ve’y ’stinguish’ Babtis’ 
pawson said be wuz s’prised dat de lubly daughter ub 
King Fario merried King Sol’mon, uh man dat wus- 
shup’d frogs, bulls, elephants an’ crock’ diles fuh pets. 
My ’pinion is she fell in lub wid dat brick house ub 
de King’s, dat de Bible say had two thousan’ baf tubs, 
an’ teck thutteen yeah ter buil’. Den, ergin, de 
bricks wuz laid in gole. King Fario’s daughter cudn’ 
resis’ uh house like dat, an’ I don’ think ’twuz hyard 
ter ondastan’. Huh merryin’ de King, dafo’, wuz 
uh subjec’ dat wuz rash-nal. 

When we gittin’ our heb’nly trunk packed, an’ 
when we trabblin’ up ter St. Peter’s gait, I kin see 
Uncle Keubin, Aunt Phillis, Uncle Stephen, Aunt 
Sookey, Rasmus Jemes, Damon Danridge, Pawson 
Phil Demby an’ Mammy Uancy trottin’ ’long de road 
in de beauty ub holiness, goin’ ter St. Peter’s gait an’ 
longin’ ter git deah han’s on de gait futto ring dat bell. 
An’ I kin see Little Billy (be sho’ an’ pray fuh him, 
Sistus; ef’n coons, ’possums, fiddles an’ banjos had 
nebba ’zisted, he wudn’ be uh sinnah) — yas, I kin see 
Little Billy stan’in’ wid Jasper pullin’ dat bell tell he 
mos’ breck de wire, an’ pester St. Peter so dat he say, 
“Who dat tryin’ ter breck meh bell?” Den de bell 
wen’ jing-uh-ling ergin! Den St. Peter ’mejately 
stuck he lubly haid ober de gate an’ 
say, “Gwuffum heah, Little Billy; you 


[ 147 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ain’ bin ’nointed. You got ter lib wid dem 
you likes ter keep cump’ny wid; fub instinc’, 
witches, glioses, jack-uh-ma-lanterns an’ de chillun in 
de wilderness ub Zip !” You kin ’magine bow po’ 
Billy’s face look — much mo’ sadder dan Scip Jones’ 
look at de cake-walk lars’ Cbris’mus; an’ when St. 
Peter smile same ez uh serrypin an’ say, “Heah cum 
meh chillun ; walk in de watah, f uh hit’s al’ays wahm ; 
let me babtiz you in de golden ribba,” Billy wuz so 
’stressed dat he kicked Jasper an’ say, “Hit’s all yo’ 
fault; ef’n you wan’ sech uh good coon dog I’d nebba 
bin led ’stray.” 

How, dis will cum ter pars : When St. Peter sees 
Aunt Phillis an’ IJncle Reubin cummin’ ’long he will 
say, jes’ ez sho’ ez judgmen’ day is cummin’, “Cher- 
rypins an’ serrypins, an’ Ham, de cullud son ub 
Hoahy, bresh de dust fum two ub de bes’ seats in de 
Lawd’s kitchen fuh dem two saints, an’ tell ’em we 
gwine ter hab uh festibal!” I wan’ Ham ter set 
’long side you an’ pint out Samuel de fus’, an’ secon’, 
Moses, King Dabid, King Fario, Zackeus de climber, 
an’ lars’, but not leas’, Ho Ho, an’ you’ll see fum he 
habin’ whiskus he ain’ no Chine er Japne. Hen de 
profit Hoahy will renounce dat King Habid an’ he 
son, King Sol’mon, gwine ter sing uh jewette to- 
gedda — King David, ub cose, playin’ on his hyarp ub 
uh thousan’ strings; an’ I ’specks dat sweetes’ son ub 


[ 148 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 

Noahy, Ham, will play de banjo. Bless meh soul an 7 
body, .an’ meh body an’ soul, belubbed, what uh festi- 
bal hit will be ! Sistus, I kin see ’em all. 

Tilly Mink: “Yas, Brer Rasmus, all clustah’d 
’roun’ de pul-pit.” 

John Poney : “Kin you see me, Brer Rasmus?” 

No; I am lis’nin’ ter ’em talk. Dear little Jona 
will tell erboutin’ his sea voyage ; St. Peter, dat lubly 
’possel, ub how many shirks he kotch an’ kilt; Little 
J ack-a-ass erboutin how slippery wuz de sycamo’ tree 
he clum; Jacob erboutin de lubly streeked, striped 
an’ speckled cattle he riz ; Nimrod erboutin coon dogs, 
King Sol’mon erboutin he thorrybreds — brudderin’ I 
cud preach fum dis tex’ fuh uh monf an’ nebba git 
rejected, but I mus’ migrate ter dem dat ain’ bin 
’mersed. Wha will dey be when dat sweet festibal 
is gwine on? Cole ez hit is — an’ dar’s fo’ back logs 
on de fire — I say cole ez hit is, tu cole fuh uh ’possum 
ter be out, yit I feel so het up fum dis discose dat I 
kin almos’ tase de red hot melted lead, an’ sizzlin’ 
brimstone dat de sinnah hab ter resis’ on. 

“You kyant eat uh hoe-cake but once!” so cum ter 
demoanah’sbench now; cum while de hoe-cake ub sal- 
bation is brown wid faith, an’ all kiwer’d ober wid de 
graby ub redemption, an’ hab yo’ fingahs filled wid 
streams ub goodness. When you go befo’ St. Peter, 
de gre’t fisherman, he got Moses stan’in’ by he side 
wid dat curisome rod ub his’n.* Den Moses tap you on 


A negro superstition. 


[ 149 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


de han’ wid lie rod, an’ ef’n you good yo’ fingah nails 
will fly back, an’ Moses will pull fum yo’ fingahs gre’t 
long strings ub goodness ; an’ ef ’n you bad, gre’t long 
black bad strings. 

Uncle Reubin Viney say dat be beab ub gre’t 
Mefodis’ pawson say dat Unuch, wbo wuz trans- 
planted, wuz so good dat be didn’ bab any fingab nails, 
an’ de Mefodis’ pawson also say de reason de debbil 
is called Ole Scratch is kase be fingab nails long ez 
ub roostus spubs. 

How, when Moses tap yo’ fingabs wbat he gwine ter 
pull out ? Belubbed, now is de time fub de checkera- 
tion ub yo’ sins. Burhol’ de golden stairs starin’ you 
in de face! Sistus an’ brudders, you mus’ try ter 
dim’ dem stairs. Hit will meek yo’ legs, abms, 
risses an’ by arts so strong, jes’ ez it did little Zackasses 
when be clum dat slippery sycamo’ tree ; an’ when you 
git ter de top ub dem golden stairs you will see fus’ 
Ole Mars Hickey, Mars Tilgbman, Mars Jimmy an’ 
Miss Henrietta wid wings ’ hine an’ befo ’ an’ cullud 
angels consonly breshin’ de dus’ fum Miss Henrietta’s 
cbeab, an’ lookin’ fub bub specks, an’ you’l see de same 
sweet ringlets in bub hyah. Yas, indeed ! kissen huh 
lubly brow, neck an’ bres’ jes’ like de jewdraps kisses 
de snowballs in de gyardin. An’ pres’ny she will 
raise up dem sweet han’s ub hub’n dat’s of’n bin bu’nt 
meckin’ poltices fub good an’ bad serbents, open bub 


[ 150 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


cherrypin mouf an’ say, “Dem’s meh good serbents; 
I knew’d dey’d be heah !” An’ den she’ll call Ham 
an’ say, “Gib ’em nice seats in de Lawd’s kitchen;” 
an’ while she gibbin’ orders King Dabid chnne he 
hyarp, Gabriel he trumpet, an’ all de res’ ub de gre’t 
singers an’ players git ’roun’ de organ Den King 
Sol’mon, wid uh pow’ful bow an’ uh book ub songs 
un’er his arm, ax Miss Henrietta futto play de organ; 
an’ Miss Henrietta bow fum him an’ look ez prowd ez 
uh peacock — an’ she wuz, tu! An’, belubbed, she 
say, “I’m sho’ you ain’ pus-nal, den ergin you ain’ 
rash-nal, King Sol’mon, kase you had tu many wibes; 
an’ ef’n it wan’ fuh dem lubly songs ub yo’n I wudn’ 
fogib yo’ sassyness er keep comp’ny wid you.” 

Lars’ but not leas’, I ’specks Aunt Phillis sot at de 
melojin in de Lawd’s kitchen wid all Marster’s good 
an’ faithful serbents ’roun’ huh, an’ when Moses teck 
he rod an’ gib dat rod uh twiss, dey all included by 
singin’ togedda, de fo’f vus ub hym 473 : 

“He suvrin pow’r widout our aid 

Made us ub clay [dar’s de application] an’ formed us 
men; 

An’ when like wan’rin’ sheep we strayed, 

He fotch us ter his foF ergen.” 

Befo’ we sojourn I fogot ter renounce dat Mage 
Rudd say de keys ub de heb’nly organ wuz all made 


[ 151 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ub gole. Yistiddy I ax Mars Pinckney erboutin hit, 
an’ he say, “Sho’ ! Da wuz uh Key made ub gole dat 
writ uh gre’t an’ pow’ful song.” Think ub dat! I 
dunno what he mean ezac’ly, but I s’pose hit sompin 
in rebellation. 


[ 152 ] 



OLE MISS. 
(Miss Henrietta.) 








Ole Mars an* Ole Miss. 


JUBA VINEY’S YALLER PANTS. 


Flowers were fading. Roses, hyacinths, honey- 
suckle, buttercups and bluebells all gave “sigh for 
sigh.” ’Twas the last of summer — the hour when 
birds fly homeward to their nests, wandering bees 
seek their hives, chickens their roosts. ’Twas twi- 
light, and its dews bathed the blooming clematis, 
climbing and caressing the latticed porch; a w T ooing 
breeze wafted its perfume through Otwell House, and 
awoke the waves on the slumbering river. 

Aunt Phillis had early leave to attend a Baptist 
prayer meeting, consequently the crickets were having 
a concert in the kitchen, little darkies were romping 
merrily on the lawn. Ole Mars was visiting Col. 
Leonard Hollyday and shooting sora and blue-wing 
duck on Wild Goose Marsh. Miss Henrietta had just 
tuned her harp and bade the servants be quiet. Pres- 
ently all was silence, save the drowsy burr of some 
insect. 

Her voice was mellifluous, her face pure and noble, 
and the servants worshipped her as the ancient Jews 
worshipped Queen Esther. She sang, “There is a 
green hill far away,” and her beautiful fingers at 


[ 153 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


times touched the strings softly as snowflakes that fall 
upon the warm cheek of a maiden and melt into tears 
— as did her voice. 

Below the porch sat Little Billy an enrapt listener. 
Just as the song was ended Juba Yiney strolled by, 
and Little Billy said: 

“Howdy, Juba! Which way you bin?” 

“Ain’ bin no wha; jes’ gwine.” 

“Wha you gwine?” 

“Gwine ter Mage Budd’s* sto’; tells me mus’rat 
hides is riz — wuf uh levy. I’m gwine ter sell mine.” 

“Well, wait tell I chain Jasper, den I’ll go wid 
you.” 

“What’s de matter wid Jasper, Billy?” 

“Why, uh coon bit him in de foot lars nite. Hebber 
wud hab bit him ef’n Jasper hadn’ been ’fused. I 
smoked de coon outin uh holler, an’ de smoke ’fused 
de dog.” 

“I’s glad futto hab you go, Billy, kase I wants yo’ 
’sponsibility. I’s gwine ter buy some things at de 
sto’. I specks ter fill bof dese bags, dat’s full ub 
mus’rat hides, wid what I buy.” 

“I wud teck meh mus’rat hides, too, but I sprain 
meh ankle, back, ahms, risses an’ han’s lars nite 
clim’in’ uh tree. I ain’ able ter tote nuffin, so I kyant 
teck meh skins ter nite.” 

* Told the negroes he was a major in the war of 1812. He was 
a teamster. 


[ 154 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


“Tho’t you say you smoke de coon out?” 

“So I did, but dis wuz uh nubba coon.” 

“I bope Mage Rudd won’ be shut up; I wan’ ter 
git sompin nice fuh Susan. She ’bout done promise 
she gwine ter hab me, Billy; wud uh merried me long 
’go, ’ceppin’ fuh dat yaller niggah dat dribes fuh Mrs. 
Rodgers. She nebba bin in lub wid Jerry; hit’s only 
when Mrs. Rodgers cum ter see Miss Henrietta, an’' 
he got on glubs dat’s got fuz on ’em, uh ban’ ’roun’ 
he hat; bras’ buttons on he coat, white-top boots on, 
an’ uh sorter pine burr on de side ub he hat, an’ al’ays 
hab he pocket full ub can’y dat’s got vusses in ’em. 
Billy, don’ you say nuffin boutin hit, but I’m gwine 
ter hab meh pockets made bigga, an’ gwine ter hab 
one pocket full ub dat can’y all de time. What you 
s’pose dat can’y got in it? Hit almos’ cun j ah Susan. 

“Ef’n Susan cud jes’ see me once dress up dat way, 
why, man, she cudn’ resis’ me futto sabe huh life. 
Hite befo’ lars’ when she seed me gwine ter Zion, 
wid meh yaller pants on dat’s got black stripes down 
de legs, dem I bo’t at Mage Rudd’s, she jes’ wuz 
charm’; an’ when I show’d huh meh new par ub 
gallisters* I got ter ware wid dem pants, she ’low, 
‘Juba, you sut’ny do look peart.’ When Aunt 
Sookey seed me she sez, ‘Juba, you luck tu sweet 
ter lib.’ Hen Uncle Stephen he smole uh grin an’ 
say, ‘Wait tell Jerry cum prancin’ erlong, you won’ 


Suspenders. 


[ 155 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


think so.’ Den dey cummenc’ titterin’ an’ pokin’ 
deah necks out jes’ like uh passel ub geese wid young 
goslin’s; mos’ ’gusted me! Billy, Mrs. Rodgers 
al’ays call dat niggah Jerry-Myah. I nebba knew’d 
any niggah ’roun’ heah name’ Myah, did you?” 

“Not dat I kin recomm ember. He cum outin de 
Cyahrmichael fambly, an’ dey monstus cute sort ub 
niggahs.” 

“Well, he ain’ ’stressin’ me! I walk home fum 
Zion lars’ Sunday wid Susan. She did luck tu cute 
in dat new Josey ub hern! I dunno which ’track huh 
mos’, de gre’t sermon ub Pawson Demby er meh 
yaller pants. He prech fum de book ub Daniel 
erboutin de time de William goat (Pawson Demby 
say ’twan’ perlite ter say Billy goat in de pulpit) fit 
an’ smut de ram an’ breek he hohns. He ’eluded fum 
two profits (I fogit de name ub de fus’ one, but hit 
got Zek in it), an’ hit wuz all erboutin de new moon, 
six lam’s an’ uh ram. De udder profit wuz de gre’t 
Gencis, an’ Pawson Demby ’splain ter us ’bout de 
two hun’erd yews an’ twenty rams dat Jacob sont 
See-saw.” 

“Juba, you mean Esau, de hunter.” 

“Yas, dat’s hit, Billy. You see, I kyant read ter 
’fresh meh mem’ry. Well, hit wuz uh real farmer’s 
sermon, but I wuz glad when de ’eludin’ time cum, 
kase Pawson Demby prech two hours an’ uh harf, 


[ 156 ] 


Ole Mars arC Ole Miss. 


de pew wuz so crowded an’ we sot so close dat bof 
meh feet wen’ ’sleep; truf is, dey got so tired, an’ 
’twnz so wahm, I wnd hab tnck meb shoes orf, bnt 
I didn’ bab no stockin’s on. Mrs. Rodgers’ Jerry 
wan’ at cbncb. Tilly, he sistah, say be bad nh chill. 
Wish bit bad shake he baid orf! So I walk home 
wid Susan. When she got in de kitchen an’ tuck bub 
shoes orf she say ergin, ‘Juba, you sut’ny do look 
peart!’ Den she put bub ban’ in bub pocket, pull 
out one dem can’y vusses, an’ she say bit say : 

“Wiolets red, roses blue, 

Sugah sweet; me too.” 

“Den she pull out nubba, an’ bit say — 

Lub hangs ’round dis lubbin’ hyart 
Like flies ’roun’ uh apple tart. 

“Den she put bub han’s un’er de ap’on strings 
’roun’ bub ’squisit’ waise — so! ’Cose I knewed what 
dat me’nt, so I tuck ub good tase ub dem big sweet 
lips ub bub’n. Den she try ter look like she ’fended, 
an’ say, ‘Go ’way, Juba; you al’ays wan’ ter be pus-nai.’ 
Den she skip Tong ter de dairy, an’ bub feet tech de 
groun’ jes’ ez sorf an’ lite ez uh ’possum’s. Bimeby 
she cum back wid huh abms full ub ub gre t big 
crock ub clabba, all kivvered ober wid brown sugab. 
Den I hilt bub an’ kiss’d bub sho’ nuff, mo’n six er 


[ 157 ] 


Ole Mars art Ole Miss. 


seben times. I’d uh kiss bub six er seben hun’erd 
times, but I beahd Miss Henrietta cummin’ ter see 
boutin some ginger cakes sbe cookin’ in de stobe. 1 
wuz sut’ny glad to beab hub, tu, kase I specks Susan 
wud ub scolded me pow’ful. Dunno tho’ ; kase when 
Miss Henrietta cum tippin’ in so sorf dat bub little 
feets wudn’ ub masb uh rose ef’n de kitchen flo’ bin 
kivvered wid ’em, Susan sbe wuz ub singin’, Har 
is uh happy lan’ fa’, fa’ erway,’ same ez ub martin- 
gale. How-some-ebba, sbe mus’ uh bin ub little 
’fused, kase she cummenc’ ter stir dat clabba — when 
I beab Miss Henrietta an’ breck ub ’way — same ez 
bit wuz eggs, butta, cawn meal an’ butta milk, gittin’ 
stirred fub johnny-cake. I’s teckin dis bag futto carry 
what I’s gwine ter buy huh. I wudn’ teck ub kyart- 
load ub mus’rat bides fub dat gal’s lub! An’ ef’n 
Mage Eudd is got ’em, I’s gwine ter buy barf peck 
ub dat sweet can’y dat’s got vusses, some ammons, 
resins, dates an’ apples — ’nuff futto fill dis bag. Den 
fub mebsef I wan’ ter git ub mouf orgin, two mo’ 
juice-byarps, an’ wid de res’ ub de money I’s gwine 
ter see ef’n I kyant buy ub new par ub pants, yaller 
wid black stripes, an’ ub fiddle.” 

“You better buy sompin’ dat will meek money.” 

“What’s dat?” 

“Why, some ub dem new kine ub steel traps, ’sted 
ub wasein’ yo’ money on can’y, resins, an’ sich like 


[ 158 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

fuh dat gal Susan futto eat wid Mrs. Rodgers’ Jerry. 
Juba, you sut’ny mus’ t’ink ’tain’ no trubble ter ketch 
mus’rats an’ skin ’em, de way you wase yo’ money; 
mo’n dat, I wants ter borry two dollars fum you 
mehsef tell I sell meh mus’rat hides. Now, what you 
wan’ wid two par yellow pants? Dey ve’y putty, but 
one par nuff fuh dis summer, dat’s harf gone.” 

“W ell, Billy, I spile dem pants day befo’ yistiddy, 
which I will tell you boutin, tho’ hits uh composation 
dat’s ornpleasan’ ter me. Well, I had bin haulin’ 
cawn all day ter Cap’n Stitchberry’s schooner, de 
Margaret Jane. I wan’ ter dress up ter teck Susan 
ter de ’bate at Zion Chuch, so I jes’ fed Crow an 
Ab’ham, tu’n ’em loose, an’ didn’ teck deah yoke off. 
Bus’ place, dat white steer Crow is dangersome ter 
projic wid — Uncle Stephen say de gre’tes’ kicker he 
ebba saw; an’ he say de nite Crow wuz bohn wuz de 
wus’ nite he ebba saw. Blowin’, dark an’ snowin’ — 
so dark dat’s why dey call him Crow. Uncle Stephen 
say when uh leetle ca’f he wud kick his ma, ole 
Snowball, quick ez he wud kick you. So, ’cose I didn’ 
wan’ dat steer ter kick me big ez he is. I heahd 
Uncle Silas say one time he wuz plowin’ wid Dove an' 
Pigeon — dey wuz de bigges’ an’ strongis’ mules Mars 
Nickey had. He plow’d up uh yaller- jackets’ nes’, 
an’ he wuzn’ watchin Dove er Pigeon; he wuz jes’ 
watchin’ an’ fightin’ dem yaller- jackets. He say he 


[ 159 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


had mos’ wo’ out uh bran’ new straw hat fightin’ ’em, 
an’ wuz mos’ ’zausted, when dey got on Dove. She 
gib uh kick, bof huh feet hit him on de haid an’ gib 
him de haidache all day. An’ dat uh steer name 
Sampson — an’ he wan’ sech uh pow’ful steer neba — 
kick him on de haid wid one foot, an’ he haid ache 
fuh two days. 

“Well, ez I wuz tellin’ you, I hadn’ mo’n fed Crow 
an’ Ab’ham, when dat new oberseer, Dan Sharp, cum 
’long an’ sez ter me, jes’ ez I wuz startin’ ter see 
Susan, Why didn’ you teck de yoke of’n dem steers?’ 
So I say, ‘Kase I fogot hit!’ Well, den,’ he say, 
‘you lazy roscal, teck hit orf now!’ I wuz all dress 
up in meh bes’ summer close, an’ I recommembered 
what you say boutin dat oberseer; so I riz meh haid 
up an’ say, sassy-like, ‘You roscal yo’sef.’ Billy, wid 
dat he fairly foam at de mouf, run arfter me fas’ ez 
uh colt; den I run an’ run, but he gain on me (you 
see, I had meh shoes on), an’ I wuz so feard gittin’ 
kotch an’ whupped, da wuz nuffin lef’ fuh me but 
ter run in de creek, at de mouf ub Haylan’ Branch, 
up ter meh neck — wid dem new y alter pants on. 
Arfter I had bin in de watah boutin twenty minutes, 
mebby uh harf hour, long null fuh Dan Sharp ter 
git his bref back, he say, Who uh roscal, you black 
imp; me er you?’ I sez rite quick, ‘I is!’ Den he 
say, ‘You kin cum outin de creek.’ Den I tu’n fool, 


[ 160 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


ez hit tu’n out, an’ say, ‘I ain’ gwine ter cum out; 
I’s gwine ter suffah in heah. I’s gwine ter git de 
cramps, an’ uh mis’ry in meh back, an’ den go an’ tell 
Mars Mickey an’ Miss Henrietta how I kotch dem 
cramps.’ Den Dan Sharp say, ‘Ef’n you gwine ter 
tell yo’ Mars Hickey an’ Miss Henrietta, den I will 
keep you in heah tell midnite.’ Den he teck out he 
watch an’ say, Til send de fus’ one ub de chillun dat 
cum ’long de road full meh supper. I ain’ sorry ter 
stay heah, kase I heah tell ub de dancin’ parties de 
witches hab in dis branch, an’ I wanter see how long 
hit will teck ’em ter gib you spavins when dey gits 
ter dancin’ an’ meddowtatin’ ’roun’ you an’ tryin’ ter 
meek sturrups in yo’ hyah.’ 

“Billy, I had meh hyah all tied up in twisses, but 
when de oberseer talk dat fashion, meh hyah riz up on 
meh haid so quick hit bus’ dem twisses. I mos’ had 
uh spavin, sho’ nuff. When meh bref cum back I 
say, ‘Befo’ de Lawd, Mr. Sharp, I promis’ not ter tell.’ 
Den he lemmy cum out. Well, Billy, ef’n you cud 
hab seed de colour de salt watah tu’n dem lubly pants, 
you’d uh wep’. Do you recommember uh ole white- 
eyed, pie-coloured hoss dat good ole Quakah, Mars 
Isaac Atkinson, had name Skeuball?” 

“ ’Cose I do. Mars Isaac use ter say witches made 
stirrups in he main, an’ sometimes rid him ober ter 
Eausley.” [Billy was that witch!] 


[ 161 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


“Well, de colour ub dem pants ’mine me ub ole 
Skeubail; I kyant ’magin’ what de man dat made de 
muslin cud uh put in hit. An’ Billy, I kyant onda- 
stan’ how cum Mr. Sharp run me in dat creek. I’m 
mo’n twice ez big ez you is, an’ you say when he cuss 
you, you cuss him back. ’Cose arfter what you 
spressify ter me, when he sass me I rite ’way ’eluded 
ter sass him. So I say, ‘You roscal yo’sef.’ Billy 
you no de consequation ub dat miration. I ’ten’ ter 
ax Mr. Sharp when he meek up wid me how cum hit 
dat Billy kin cuss him an’ I kyant ebin sass him.” 

“Juba, don’ tu’n fool ergin. Don’ say nuffin ter 
him nohow; hit will jes’ meek him mad ergin, an’ dat 
gre’t big man mite breck bof our necks. Da wuz uh 
checkeration in our composation de nite I tole you, 
fuh Mage Budd tuck his broom an’ fairly swep’ me 
outin his sto’ fuh spillin’ mullasses on de sto’ flo’, an’ 
I wuz tu fusstified ter tell you de res’ ub what I did 
boutin Mr. Sharp. Well, Juba, de res’ is, when I 
wan’ ter cuss him I goes way up ter de top ub de hill 
’hin’ de bawn. Den I looks all ’roun’ an’ ’roun’, an’ 
ef’n I don’ see Mr. Sharp no Avha neah, I jes’ cuss, 
cuss, an’ cusses him ; an’ dat way, hit do mo’ good dan 
yo’ way, kase you kin git mad ez you wan’ ter, spressify 
yo’sef jes’ ez yo’ wan’ ter, an’ hit don’ teck de colour 
outin yo’ pants.” 

“Well, Billy, I ain’ fogot de spilein’ ub dem pants, 

[ 162 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


I tell you. I bin t’inkin’ ’bout breckin’ meh wud an’ 
tyin’ meh haid up’n uh hankcheah an’ tellin’ Mars 
Hickey de ve’y fus’ time he ax me how I feel. Den 
I’ll say, “Po’ly, Mars Hickey; ve’y po’ly eber sence 
Mr. Sharp run me in yo’ creek at de foot ub Haylan’ 
Branch mash an’ kep’ me stan’in’ in da mos’ all nite 
tramplin’ on yo’ oysters. How, what do you t’ink, 
Billy, boutin dat ?” 

“Ez you gwine ter tell Marster in de summah time 
er de wintah time ?” 

“Dunno, Billy; I ain’ t’ink ’bout dat.” 

“Well, teck my ’vice an’ tell him in de summah 
time, kase boutin uh harf hour arfter you tell him, 
da will be tu pussons stan’in’ in de creek up ter deah 
moufs — one will be Mr. Sharp, tudda, Juba Viney.” 


[ 163 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“HIS BREF KINLETH COALS.” 

Sistus, brudders an’ chillun: You will fine meh 
tex’ in de forty-fus’ cbaptab ub Job, an’ ub part ub de 
twenty-fus’ vus: “His bref kinleth coals.” 

Fus’ly, meh discose ter-day will be ’boutin strange 
things. 

Da is some people in dis congation, ’tickerly Little 
Billy, dat kyant ondastan’ why we don’ no mo’ er- 
boutin witches, an’ ghoses. De fac’ is, sence de 
witch cummittee went inter Haylan’ Branch, saw uh 
ghose er sperrit — an’ dey sut’ny saw one er de udda — 
da has bin too much witch talk in dis congation. Fuh 
instinct, what diffunc’ do hit meek ef’n hit de same 
sort, er not de same sort, ub witches dat Saul talk 
erboutin when he say, “Thou shal’ not suffah uh witch 
ter lib.” Mo’n dat, he cud ’ford ter talk dat way, fars 
ez he cud run. 

De Bible say, “Saul an’ Jonithan wuz swiftah dan 
eagles.” 

Secon’ly, Meh belubbed sistus, da is some things 
you nebba kin fine out, stranger dan witches an’ mo’ 
’structive dan witches er jack-uh-ma-lanterns. 


[ 164 ] 


Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss. 


Thudly, Dis lubly oak pulpit Mars Hickey had 
built full us wuz once uh acorn — think ub dat; an’ 
you may keep on thinking but you kyant ondastan 7 it. 

iVfly, Miss Henrietta cum in de chuch yistiddy an’ 
look 7 roun 7 while I wuz sweepin 7 . She say : “Reu- 
bin, Chris’mus I gwine ter gib de chuch uh melojin . 77 
She had in huh bres 7 fo 7 er five little wiolets, an 7 dey 
jes 7 fill de chuch full ub deah sweetness — dunno tho 7 , 
kase I specks some ub de sweetness wuz fum huh bref, 
kase hit 7 s jes 7 like uh lam 7 s. 

How, den, what cud be mo 7 strange dan de odah 
fum uh little wiolet? Hit cums peepin 7 up in de 
early spring, den hit buds an 7 blooms, an 7 uh bed ub 
dem wiolets is ez sweet ez dat hyarp ub uh thousan 7 
strings dat little Dabid played 7 pon. What’s in de 
groun 7 ’ceppin 7 de wumms ter gib dat wiolet odah? 
Mars Hickey say dat wumms sweeten de uth an 7 meek 
holes futto let de air in. You kin smell de wiolet, 
but you kyant kerry dat odah 7 way wid you; but uh 
jewdrap kin cum dong erboutin sundown, drap on dat 
flowah, res 7 uh little while, an 7 what 7 s de consequa- 
tion? Why, dat little jewdrap will ’sorb ernuff ub 
dat odah ter meek yo 7 hankcheah smell sweet fuh uh 
hole Sunday, an 7 you kin teek hit outin yo 7 pocket 
ev 7 y five minutes, ef 7 n you wan 7 ter. 

What’s witches er ghoses ’long side de mistification 
ub uh jewdrap? Why, de action ub young chickens 


[ 165 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

is mo’ curisome ter me dan witches. Ef’n u h chicken 
is only two days ole, and not strong ernuff ter git on 
he ma’s back, an’ uh wile tukkey, er wile goose, er 
buzzard cum sailin’ ’long, hit don’ pesterfy de ole 
hen er any ub huh chicks. Dey keep on playin’ wid 
dere toes an’ tryin’ ter pick up ebery little trem’lin’ 
sunbeam dat’s playin’ wid de grass; but jes’ let uh 
little sparrow-hawk, er any kind ub hawk cum ’long, 
you’ll see dat ole hen renounce hit ter huh chicks 
quick ez you kin wink yo’ eye. Den you kin look an’ 
look, but you kyant fine one ub dem little chickens 
ter sabe yo’ life. 

Now, why is dat? Hits da in- sence; dat is, de sence 
dat’s in ’em. 

Sixly, Teck uh little cherry blossom dat you cud 
put in Miss Henrietta’s thimble; hit mecks uh cherry 
tree. I’s talkin’ now boutin dem small breed ub 
cherry blossoms dat grows at Fausley, on dem monstus 
gre’t big trees. Why, some ub de bumps on dem 
trees is big ernuff ter set on. Pow’ful big cherry 
trees! What’s witches ter de cherry blossoms dat 
mecks dem big trees? You kyant ’splain hit. 

We do no sompin’ erbout witches; fuh instinct, 
we kin ond'astan how some breed ub witches kin lib 
in cows’ hohns — dem small ones dat Little Billy say 
lit on Pigeon’s mane (an’ you no mules don’ hab long 
manes) jes’ same ez uh pack ub mice wid wings, one 


[ 166 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

night when he ridin’ Pigeon thoo Haylan’ Branch. 
Billy say de biggis’ one he saw dat time wuz uh white 
one, wid spuhs on, bontin ez big ez uh young rabbit 
befo’ dey leabe deah nes’ — an’ ub cose at uh ’stressin’ 
time like dat Billy mus’ uh saw twice. Mo’ober he 
say ef’n de witches had uh had bobtails he wud uh 
tuck ’em fuh rabbits; but deah tails wuz ve’y curi- 
some — erbout twice ez long ez uh ’possum’s, an’ rap 
all ’roun’ deah ahms. 

But de stranges’ thing ub all is what I now cum ter 
seben’ly — 

“HIS BEEF KIHLETH COALS.” 

We kyant say our pr’ars widout hit. Hit’s got 
fingahs, I s’pose plays hohns an’ all insterments dat 
you blow on. Hit sings, howls, whispuhs an’ moans 
same ez uh mo’nah. Hit’s uh thing wid three names. 

Ev’ybody lubs de part dat ’longs ter him mo’n uh 
jus’ man lub his wife, er King Habid lubb’d Ab-so- 
lum. We kin see hit in wintah when hit’s cole an’ 
frosty, but kyant see hit in de summah when it dry. 
Hit’s wid us whedder we ersleep er wake. Som’- 
times hit’s ez weak ez uh nat, den ergin stronger dan 
de little hills dat de Bible say, “skipped like lam’s.” 
Hit’s wahm in summah an’ cole in wintah. Hit’s gen- 
tle one day an’ sassy nubba day. Hit kerries in hit’s 
bres’ de storm an’ scatters de clowds. Hit wuz wid 
Jonah in de whale’s belly. Hit kin sow an’ reap. 

[ 167 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Ezactly so, precisely. Hit’s stronger dan all de 
steers, cows, hosses, mules an’ men on dis plantation. 
In quaresomeness da’s nuffin kin tech it; uh barn- 
yard full ub witches is nuffin ter dis mis’ try. 

“HIS BREF KIHLETH COALS.” 

Ately, hit kin be ez sorf ez de fewers on uh hum- 
min’ bird’s bres’ er de down on uh wile goose’s neck. 
Belubbed, hit’s nebba still; al’ays goin’ somewha, an’ 
de Bible say you kyant see hit. Ho snail kin creep 
’long slower dan hit kin, an’ no ghose run f asser. 

Hinely, Hit kin canter, rack, gallop, trot; hit’s got 
all de gaits, an’ when hit comes ter swif’ness, dar ain’ 
nuffin un’er de sun, an’ I specks ober de sun, dat kin 
run erway fum hit. Hit kin sing ez high ez Aunt 
Phillis an’ ez low ez Little Billy. Sometimes hit 
coughs same ez an ole cow dat’s tryin’ ter swaller uh 
nubbin ’dout chawin’ hit. 

Leb’nly, De fac’ is, sistus an’ brudders, our bref, 
de win’, er air — three names fuh one thing — mus’ be 
uh pusson. Plow cud it cough, whistle, sing, cry, moan 
same ez uh sinnah, whispuh, sow an’ reap, ef’n it wan’ 
one ub dem Possels er Petracks in disgise. 

“HIS BREF KIHLETH COALS.” 

Twelf’ly, Any way you look at kit , hit sut’ny mus’ 
be some kine ub pusson. Brudderin, hit mus’ be Job, 
fuh Job say, “O, recommember dat meh life is 


[ 168 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


wind Dar’s uh gre’t deal mo’ ub it in Haylan’ 
Branch dan witches. In de summahtime hit 
sweetens Haylan’ Branch; huvverin’ ober de 
Avile grape wines, dem nights in June, drinks 
itself full ub ’licious odahs an’ brings dem 
two miles ter Mars Hickey, Miss Henrietta 
an’ de chillun settin’ on de po’ch lookin’ at de Tred 
Avon, an’ ter ev’y good an’ bad niggah on de planta- 
tion. Sistus, I specks de gyarden ub Edum wuz full 
ub wile grapewines. ’Cose Miss Eve knew’d what 
de sweetes’ ub odahs wuz, an’ I specks Mars Adam 
an’ Miss Eve spent da moon-honey ’roun’ dem wile 
grapewines. 

Thutteenly, Ter cum back ter de application, what 
is de win’? Is it uh Cherrypin er Serrypin, er Job 
in disgise? 

Damon Danridge: “Uncle Reubin hit cudn’ be uh 
Cherrypin er Serrypin, kase sometimes de win’ good- 
temper’ d, den ergin hit’s angry.” 

Uncle Reubin: “Damon, I ’cepts yo’ ’spons’bility, 
kase when de win’ gits rale mad hit orften mecks de 
clowds weep snow an’ cry rain. Think ub dat! An’ 
Avhen you see de ole steamboat Marylan’ lash ter de 
warf, an’ Cap’n Stitchberry’s ole yaller sail schooner, 
de Margaret Jane, clair up ter de haid ub Eausley 

• Job vii, 7. 


[ 169 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Creek, you kin see ’mejately de win’ almos’ got uh 
spavin. 

Fo’teenly, Sistus, brudders an’ little chillun, teck 
care ub yo’ bref ; fub de Bible say, “We all do fade ez 
de leaf.” You wan’s de bref ub life all de time, night 
an’ day, right wid you. Brudders, sometimes hit’s too 
full ub applejack, udder times mebby hit’s wasted 
tellin’ lies, dancin’, playin’ de fiddle, singin’ songs, 
stealin’ watahmillions, an’ habin’ foolish composations 
erbout ghoses, jack-uh-ma-lanterns an’ witches, when 
de same bref mout uh bin used futto pray wid an’ sing 
hyms. Ef’n you don’ teck care ub yo’ bref you will 
be class wid dem dat’s call uh bag ub win’ — an’ da 
ain’ nuffin mo’ onsartin’ dan de win’. 

Lars’ but not leas’, when you go home talk erboutin’ 
de win’ ’sted ub ghoses an’ witches, ondastan’ vo’sebs, 
pray fuh de bref ub de lam’ futto be wid you, an’ 
when you rassle wid yo’ lars bref an’ hit whispuh sorf 
. ez uh Cherrypin — 

“Yo’ll not git los’ in de wildernes’ 

Wid nh lighted can’le in yo’ bres’.” 

Light de can’el ! Ef’n you don’ light hit good an’ 
hab de wick ub salbation, den de blessed Lawd will 
blow hit out an’ say ergin: “Foxes hab holes, an’ de 
birds ub de air (dar’s de application) hab nesses; but 
de Son ub Man hath not wha ter lay His haid.” 


[ 170 ] 


BLACK CREEK FORD. 






























































































































* 


































































Ole Mars an 7 Ole Miss . 


DAT AUNTYDOTE.* 


Dramatis Personae. 

Mars Dick — A country doctor. 

Ben — a credulous darkey. 

Mike — a Talbot County mule. 

ACT I. 

SCENE I. — Ben’s cabin near a swamp. 


When Mike, meh mule, tuck sick Mars Dick cum ridin’ by 
An’ say, “Uh case orntried is hyard ter jestify; 

Still, I kin git him well, meek up yo’ mine ter dat, 

Ef you will turn yo’ pollyticks an’ be uh Dimmycrat. 

“I’s gwine ter try an’ git inter de Legislates Ben, 

An’ I wan’ ter run uh haid ub de res’ ub all de men.” 

De consequation wuz I say, “I’ll vote fuh you, Mars Dick, 
Fuh dis po’ wretched mule ub mine is mighty, monstus 
sick.” 

Den Mars Dick say, “Be quick! Run ter de swamp an’ get 
Snake-root, squaw-root, mash-mallers an’ bone-set; 

Ros’ ’em in uh spidah tell dey squench up inter uth, 

Den da ain’ no tellin’ what sich uh powder’s wuth.” 


• A story of the late Senator Vance Versified. 


[ 171 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Hit seems ter me de price wuz big dat I got fuh meh vote, 
Ease Mars Dick say dem swamp yearbs wuz uh pow’ful 
auntydote 

Fuh hic-cups, cramps, brownchytiz, bruises, bu’ns, haid- 
aches, 

Rheumatiz an’ measles, conwulsions and de shakes. 

An’ den Mars Dick he tole me, in de mawnin’ ’fo’ I feed 
Futto go inter de swamp an’ git de largis’ reed I seed, 

An’ fill hit full fum en’ ter en’ wid dat gran’ auntydote, 
Pull out Mike’s tongue, put in de reed, an’ blow hyard 
down he thote. 


SCENE II. 

In ’bout uh week I heahd uh nock — ’twuz Mars Dick at 
de do’; 

I’d jes’ begun uh leetle bit ter walk ’cross de flo’; 

De pussperation baved meh face, an’ I had so leetle bref, 
Dat Mars Dick say, “Why, Ben, what’s de matter wid 
yo’sef?” 

I say ter him, “Dat auntydote wuz wus’n dangerous, 

De mule he gib uh pow’ful snort, an’ his blow wuz defus'! 

De bone-set’s clustah’d ’roun’ meh bones, de snake-root’s 
in meh brain, 

Meh back is full ub mis’ry, an’ meh haid is full ub pain.” 

MORAL. 

Young Marster ain’ de kine ub man dat suits de Legislates 
He spressify his condidence too much ter meek uh ’bater; 
Dat auntydote dey call it wud nebber tech meh thote 
Ef I hadn’ pestered pollyticks an’ sole fuh weeds meh vote. 


[ 172 ] 


ez sweet ez er Melojin, an’ leadin’ de pack. 





















































































































Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


EZRA. 


Ezzy, as the servants called him, was a brother to 
Little Billy, almost as smart, but in character as un- 
like as Jacob and Esau were in appearance, for Billy 
had very little character and Ezzy a great deal. He 
was short of stature, well figured, good featured, per- 
fect teeth, and though 60 years old, was full of life, 
gracious and light-hearted. He doted on a horse race, 
could cut the pigeon wing and was as fond of a fox 
hunt as Squire Weston. As much as he loved to eat, 
he would leave a steaming breakfast of hominy and 
sparerib if he heard a pack in full cry. 

He had a most remarkable memory; for instance, 
he knew the mothers' of all the calves and lambs, the 
names of all the oyster pungies, schooners and canoes 
in the river. I suppose in Bolingbrook District there 
were a hundred foxhounds; he knew all of their 
names, and when they passed him in full cry would 
exclaim, “Da goes Chimes, Jerry-Myall, Boxer, Juno, 
Jew-Drap, Sweet-lips, Heatherbell, Sweetheart,” etc. 
He sang, played the banjo and was a decided beau. 
Indeed, he was a born sport, and like his brother, 
Little Billy, not fond of hard work. He was an ex- 


[ 173 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ceptionally good horseman, had good hands and good 
judgment; in Queen Anne’s County had ridden and 
won two races for his Marster; could break a yoke of 
oxen in a week; schooled the hunters, broke the colts, 
rode them hare-back, and, as he would say, “Dey 
jes’ drapped into his ways.” 

Ezra had his faults, however, and annoyed the over- 
seers with his shortcomings. Eor example, he doted 
on coon hunting, and when he had been coon hunt- 
ing all night, would go to sleep for hours next day 
husking corn and not husk enough to pay for his 
bacon. If a fox was run through the estate, Ezra 
would pack in and forget his work. When the over- 
seers w T ould call him to account he would say, “I cudn’ 
help gittin’ ’stracted an’ harkin’ up dem houn’s. Mars 
Matthew wuz ridin’ in de lead on Skylark, an’ his fa- 
vorite houn’, Jerry-Myah, wuz tonguein’ ez sweet 
ez uh melojin, an’ leadin’ de pack.” 

Late in September, 1857, to judge Cotswold sheep 
his Marster was invited to the great cattle and horse 
show to be held in Memphis, Tenn., the next month. 
As Ezra was fond of animals, and trifling about hard 
work, had good manners and full of kindness, his 
Marster concluded to send him to Memphis with eight 
sheep, the pick of the flock. 

They stopped in Baltimore, where E"oah Walker 
& Company fitted him out with two suits of brown 


[ 174 ] 



Dey ’long ter Mars Matthew; his Gre’t Gran Pa, dey tell me, hope 
C'lnmhus ter ’sciver Talbot County, an’ dat wuz hefo’ 
de Petracks (Patriarchs) cum ober. 
























































































































































































Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


livery with brass buttons. He was given a new hat, 
as he expressed it, “Wid uh burr on one side de hat;” 
but his new boots particularly charmed him, as the 
best servants got boots, and the others shoes. From 
Baltimore, Ezra was sent direct to Memphis, and his 
Mars Matthew joined, in Richmond, Col. John Ware, 
of Virginia, who bred Cotswold sheep and exhibited 
in Memphis. 

At the Memphis show, three of Ezra’s sheep took 
blue ribbons, one a red ribbon. He was standing 
in front of his sheep cot, two days after arriving — 
standing as though he was going to have his picture 
taken, delighted with himself and the blue ribbons. 
A man came along and said: 

“Has your Marster many sheep like these?” 

“Many? Erbout ten thousan’; dey jes’ run an’ 
tuck de fus’ dey kotch.” 

Another man said, “Whose sheep are these?” 

“Dey ’long ter Mars Matthew; his gre’t granpa, dey 
tell me, holp C’lumbus ’sciver Talbot County, an’ dat 
wuz befo’ de Petracks cum o'ber.” 

Presently a neat, likely looking mulatto girl came 
along, looked admiringly at Ezra, leaned over the 
rail of the sheep cot and said demurely, “Kin I pat 
one ub yo’ sheep?” 

“Sut’ny, honey; dey won’ bite,” Ezra said. “Do 
you lib ’roun’ heah?” 


[ 175 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


“Yas, indeed;” and she added, “Wha you cum 
fum; ’roun’ heah?” 

“Bless meh soul an’ body an’ meh body an’ soul — 
ter think I cum fum dis place! Why, dar ain’ no 
salt watah heah! I cum fum de Eastern Sho’ ub 
Maryland, Talbot County. Uncle Stephen Viney say 
dat he heah John Poney say dat he heah Pawson 
Phil Demby say dat meh fambly bin libbin’ in Talbot 
County fum de times ub de Petracks. It’s de fines’ 
place on uth; don’ hab ter wuck much; da ain’ much 
lan’, mos’ ev’ything salt watah, ribbers, bays, creeks 
and cobes. Puh instinct, I tecks meh boat” 

“Is you uh free pusson?” 

“Me? Dey don’ ’low free niggahs down dar; dey 
all qual’ty slabes.” 

“Well, you said you had uh boat.” 

“Sut’ny I did. Ef’n uh serbent wants uh boat he 
jes’ say ter Mars Matthew, T wants uh pine tree, 
meh Marster, futto meek uh boat,’ an’ rite ’way he 
say/Teck yo’ choice in de fores’;’ an’ den ten er twelbe 
serbents almos’ meek dat boat in one night; dey call 
’em dug-outs. Well, I kin teck meh boat an’ cross 
de watah fum Mars Matthew’s ter Mars Jimmy’s, 
erbout uh harf mile, in uh harf hour an’ mebby fish 
meh net on de way; ef’n I had ter go by lan’, it wud 
be twelbe miles erroun’.” 

“Is de fishin’ good down da? Any mullets?” 


[ 176 ] 



Meh name is Ezra, but dey call me Ezzy 












































































































Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss , 


“Mullets! We gib dem ter de hogs. We eats what 
dey call spot, hog-fish, yaller-neds, catfish, pearch, 
sheepshead, crokusses, bay mackrel — dat lars fish de 
bes’ ub all; don’ hab ter mobe yo’ lips an’ tongue 
’tall; hit jes’ melt in yo’ mouf — an’ crabs an’ oysters 
dey alums’ beg you ter eat ’em. Coons in de swamps, 
an’ ’possums in mos’ ev’y ’simmon tree. Serbents 
don’ hab much ter do; I dress up dis way mos’ all de 
time.” 

“Well, you sut’ny do look peart in dat suit, an’ 
you sut’ny mus’ lib in uh pow’ful fine country. I’m 
a chambermaid, an’ ’longs ter Mars Bedford Forrest, 
who’s showin’ some game chickens an’ fine cattle, 
heah; dat’s one ub his serbents stan’in’ in front ub 
dem cattle; ax him ter bring you ’roun’ ter-night ter 
see me; I’s jes’ pinin’ ter heah sum mo’ erbout dem 
ribbers an’ ocean. Meh name is Muhtilda.” 

“Meh name is Ezra, but dey call me Ezzy.” 

“Well, kin I ’speck you, Ezzy?” 

“Yes’m; erboutin supper time.” 

Every night Ezra went to see Matilda, and every 
day, as long as she could get off, Matilda came to see 
Ezra. The result was, at the end of the week they 
were married. Ezra never said a word to his Marster 
about it, and urged her to be silent. She was faith- 
ful, dependent and obedient. Ezra told her “he wuz 
not gwine ter say anything ter his ole Marster tell de 


[ 177 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


day befo’ gwine home, and den his Mars Matthew wud 
buy huh. Ef’n I say anything rite ’way he mout git 
rejected, teck me home by mehsef, teck off dis nuni- 
f orm ; mo’n dat, he mout whup me, an’ nebba let me go 
ter any mo’ shows.” Matilda grew so worried that she 
cried and cried; she was more than perplexed, almost 
hysterical, so she told Ezra she was going to see and 
talk to his Marster. Ezra was affrighted, and said, 
“Ef’n you tu’n fool an’ git ter prancin’ erroun’ Mars- 
ter, he will say dat he is sho’ you mus’ uh run ’way 
wid me, an’ dat he don’ like Tennessee niggahs.” 

Matilda had more courage, however, than Ezra, so 
she interviewed Ezra’s Marster, who said : 

“Are you a slave?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I hope your Marster is good and kind to you ?” 

“Y-a-s, indeed, meh Marster ; he is ve’y ’zactin’ an’ 
punnounced, but he is jes’ ez kind ez kind kin be; 
ef’n I hadn’ fell in lub wid Ezzy, dat Eastern Sho’ an’ 
his boat, I wudn’ arsk you ter buy me an’ leabe Mars 
Bedford; but you know Ezzy hab ve’y cutesome 
ways.” 

“Suppose I can get your Marster to buy Ezra and 
make him promise never to sell him as long as he be- 
haves himself; how then? I hate to part with him, but 
1 have servants enough.” 

“Meh Marster, dat will settle de ’spute rite ’way; 


[ 178 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

please sell Ezzy to Mars Bedford. I’m sho’ he wudn’ 
part wid me, an’ Ezzy wud suit him futto handle de 
hosses.” 

Mr. Eorrest said he would not take five thousand 
dollars for Matilda; she was all in all the best servant 
he ever owned, and after a brief talk not only bought 
Ezra, but the sheep; so they did not have to come 
home and carry their tails behind them. 

H. B. Forrest soon became attached to Ezra, 
thought the world of him, and when the Civil War 
broke out took him as his body servant. Ezra served 
him faithfully during the war, and when General 
Eorrest disbanded his troops at Gainesville, Ala., May 
Oth, 1865, General Forrest told Ezra he would give 
him a home and take care of him as long as he lived. 
Ezra said, “He wud like once mo’ ter see Mars 
Matthew an’ Miss Mary an’ den cum back.” Where- 
upon General Forrest presented him with Pigeon, a 
mule, and gave him money enough to go home. He 
rode some hundred and seventy miles to the home of 
a Mrs. Sanson, where he stayed two weeks, and then 
took the train from Rome, Ga., for home; and one 
bright, beautiful morning early in June, timid and 
lonesome the steamer landed him at Miles River 
Wharf, Talbot County, Maryland, a mile by water 
from “Fairlands.” 

All faces were strange to him; he knew no one and 
[179] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


no one knew him. “The Rest” had been burned during 
the war, and the new house looked strange. Across 
the river and opposite “The Rest” was “The Anchor- 
age.” It looked changed; there were no little negroes 
playing on the lawn. “The Villa” further up the 
river was almost hidden by the trees that had grown 
so since he left. Timidly he turned his longing eyes 
on “Fairlands,” and he saw, a mile away across the 
river, grand pecan nut, majestic oak, poplar and 
horse-chestnut trees. He pulled from his pocket a 
bandanna handkerchief almost big enough to cover a 
baby’s crib, and said, brushing tears from his eyes, 
“Dat’s wha Mars Matthew an’ Miss Mary lib. Dat’s 
‘Fairlands.’ ” He asked an old darkey unloading 
fish and soft crabs from his canoe if, for thirty cents, 
he would land him at the foot of the “Fairlands” gar- 
den. “Git abode; I got meh net sot at de foot ub de 
gyarden.” 

“Ev’ything is so changed,” he said inaudibly, as 
he took his seat in the bow of the boat. “Mars Bed- 
ford tole me I al’ays had uh home wid him,” and he 
almost regretted leaving his far Southern home. 

What a lovely day it was ! The air was of caress- 
ing softness; the breeze was so light that the sail some- 
times jibed, the ripples kissed lightly the sides of the 
boat that floated lazily along; the balmy June air, the 


[ 180 ] 


Ole Mars an > Ole Miss. 


sweet breath of the salt water, all, coupled with Ezra’s 
fatigue, soothed him and presently he was asleep. His 
hat fell off beside him, and 

Da wuz no wool on de top ub his haid, 

In de place wha de wool orter grow. 

Here and there on his face were little tufts of beard 
that looked like tiny grains of popped corn. 

In about an hour the boatman turned the stern of 
his boat towards the shore and pushed her on the 
beach at the foot of the garden back of the dwelling — 
spanked the water with his paddle, and Ezra awoke, 
got out, walked through the water bushes and soon 
was strolling along one of the garden walks. He 
thought how strange it was in the month of J une those 
once leafless and carpet-like walks should be strewn 
with leaves; then he noticed that the box hedges were 
ragged and in places had paths through them; the 
grape arbors were decayed here and there and totter- 
ing, and many grapevines were trailing over and em- 
bracing leafless and dying peach and pear trees 

All that’s bright must fade, 

The brightest still the fleetest; 

All that’s sweet was made 
But to be lost when sweetest! 

Only the birds seemed to care for and own this once 
enchanting and beautiful garden, “warbled their na- 
tive wood notes wild” and sang hallelujahs to the 


[ 181 ] 


Ole Mars art Ole Miss. 

morning-glories and other flowers. Acres of air were 
filled with the delicious perfume of blooming grape- 
vines, and the canticles of birds. 

Ezra sank upon an old rustic seat and said again, 
“Mars Bedford say he wud al’ays teck care ub me. 
I’m sorry I spent meh money and lef’ de Souf, hut I 
wan’ ter see Mars Matthew an’ Miss Mary once mo’,” 
and again he took out that bandanna handkerchief. 
His solitude was broken by old Sam’l, once one of the 
gardeners, the only servant that stayed when they 
were emancipated. He had on his arm a basketful of 
cling peaches. He said, “I s’pose you bin sorf crabbin’ 
’long de sho’ an’ cum up heah ter res’ yo’sef dis sweet, 
lubly day ?” 

Ezra said : “I ain’ bin crabbin’, do’ I lubs crabbin’ 
an’ lubs crabs futto eat. I’m jes’ fum de wah ; fit in 
mos’ ev’y battle. Mars Berford Eorrest wuz wid me 
all de time. Ub cose you hearn tell ub him.” 

Sam’l looked at him inquisitively, and said : 

“How, hush!” 1 

And then Ezra’s face beamed, he recognized old 
Sam’l, and he said, “Don’ you recommember me, 
Brer Sam? I’s Ezzy, Beetle Billy’s brudder, dat 
Mars Matthew sold ter Mars Bedford befo’ de wah.” 
Whereupon they embraced. 

Ezra was very hungry, and soon commenced to eat 
up the peaches, when a little darkey about three 


[ 182 ] 



» 


So by and by “Ezra” was bowing 


to and greeting Miss Mary. 



Ole Mars an* Ole Miss. 

years old whom Sam’l said was his grandchild, looked 
into the basket and said something that probably 
meant to ask for peaches. Whereupon Ezra said : 

“Do de chile talk, Brer Sam ?” 

Brer Sam’l said, “Well, I kyant tell ezactly; he 
mecks de sounds, but kyant fo’m de wuds yit.” 

Then with timidity and a trembling voice he asked 
SamT for Mars Matthew and Miss Mary. Sam’l said, 
“Dosin’ he good an’ faithful serbents dat wuz ’swaded 
’wav, seein’ de lawn kivvered all de time wid twigs 
an’ leabes, ev’ything goin’ ter wase, young Mars Mat- 
thew gittin’ kilt at Petersbu’g, ’stressed him so pow’ful 
dat he got so he cudn’ recommember anything; fuh in- 
stinct, he wud fogit de tex’ befo’ he lef’ de chuch; he 
almos’ fogot his A B C’s; den ergin, he wuz eighty 
years ole, an’ den he died. Mistis ’structed Pawson 
Phil Demby, John Poney, Damon Danridge, Basmus 
Jemes an’ mehsef ter meek de toom. She wudn’ hab 
nobody else, an’ you kyant ’magine how fine it look. 

“Ezzy, sence you bin ’way we has had uh gre’t 
preacher at Zion Chuch, an’ we hab all got erligion an’ 
tu’n Presbyters ; de shirks wuz so bad we had ter gib 
up de Babtis’ erligion. Jes’ let me git annerr barsket 
ub peaches, Ezzy, an’ den I’ll go up an’ tell Ole Mistis 
you’r heah, an’ she will sho’ly see you.” 

Whilst Sam’l was gone, Ezra thought of the straw 
stacks he used to climb and slide down, how his young 


[ 183 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


Marster, killed at Petersburg, used to drive Rasmus, 
Saul, Little Billy and himself tandem, all harnessed 
up with sweet potato vines, and prancing with sheep- 
rib bits in their mouths like colts. And then he re- 
called the colts he broke, gazed upon the river where 
he used to wade the hunting horses along the beach 
to wash and tone up their legs; then he thought of 
his brother, Little Billy, his coon dog, Jasper, and of 
his boat, and wondered where they all were. He 
wiped his eyes, took a chew of tobacco, when his 
crowded thoughts were diverted by SamTs return. So 
by and by Ezra was bowing to and greeting his “Ole 
Mistis.” Thinking to condole with her and leave the 
impression that he always thought his Marster of 
sound mind, he said, “Miss Mary, people use ter say 
dat Mars Matthew wuz rash-nal, but I nebber did 
think Mars Matthew wuz rash-nal.” 

The old lady could scarcely repress a smile, and 
told Ezra the quarter where he was born and lived 
(on Heart’s Cove, a beautiful sheet of water near the 
homestead and an arm of Miles River) should be 
renovated and made comfortable as his home, and 
all that she required of him in his declining years 
was to keep her in oysters, fish and crabs, an easy 
task and eminently to the taste of Ezra. 

In a few days, helped by his young Marster Arthur, 
Ezra was comfortably domiciled in his quarter on 


[ 184 ] 



MARS ARTHUR. 


ix-X'# 





















































Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Heart’s Cove, and was very happy. He wished he 
had ridden Pigeon home instead of giving her away; 
he missed her so. He did not seem to worry about 
his wife the war had separated from him. One day 
whilst he was chinking and fixing up his boat, which 
old Sam’l had taken good care of, and singing 
lustily — 

“When Israel wuz in Egyp’ Ian’; 

Let meh people go; 

Oppress’d so hyard dey cud not stan’; 

Let meh people go; 

Go down Moses, way down in Egyp’ lan’; 

Tell ole Phario, 

Let meh people go” — 

his young Marster Arthur, a lad of 15, who had al- 
ready grown fond of him, and found him always en- 
tertaining, took a seat near him, asked him some ques- 
tions about the South and if he saw anything of the 
war. 

“Who, me? Mars Bedford wuz wid me an’ we fit 
mo’n uh hunard battles, I specks, skirmages an’ all.” 

“Who do you mean by Mars Bedford?” 

“Why, Gen’l Forrest; de gre’tes’ warrior dat ebber 
libbed. Yo’ Pa sole me ter him. He wuz jes’ Mistah 
Forrest dem days, an’ wuz uh private de fus’ uh de 
wah; think ub dat! Well, when de wah broke out he 
tuck me fuh one ub his bodyguard; dat is, ter guard 
his body an’ keep dem blue coats ’way. He had uh 


[ 185 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


hunard an’ fifty men in his bodyguard, an’ I wuz rite 
’side him, his serbent an’ waitah — an’ mo’n dat, wid 
him night an’ day, ceppin in de battle; den I al’ays 
hilt his hoss when he fight on foot. You see when 
de battle ’tall ornsartin he meek dat bodyguard git 
of’n deah bosses an’ he draw dat big swo’d ub his’n 
an’ say, Toller me,’ an’ ’mejately de blue coats see 
Mars Bedford an’ dat long swo’d ub his’n, dey sho’ ter 
run, don’ meek no difference ef’n dey ez thick ez grass- 
hoppus. Some people say he cud look like uh goblin 
an’ tu’n inter uh sperrit in uh han’-ter-han’ fight; once 
uh week he sharpen his swo’d same ez uh raiser, an’ 
arfter his brudder got kilt (nebba saw uh man cry 
so in meh life) he sharpen dat swo’d ev’y day an’ he 
say, Tf’n dey don’ s’render arfter I say s’render, I’ll 
cut de haids of’n ev’y one I gits close ’nuff ter,’ and 
he did it, too.” 

“Now, Ezra!” 

“Young Marster, I hab seed too much sufferin’ an’ 
too much sorrow ter meek fun ub it; mo’n dat, I’m 
gittin’ ter be uh ole man, an’ I wan’ meh heb’nly 
Marster’s lub; so what I am tellin’ you is de truf. I 
will cross meh hyart an’ bref uh thousan’ times ef’n 
you wan’ me ter.” Then he was contemplative for a 
moment, when he resumed chinking his boat and sing- 
ing— 


[ 186 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

“Oh, cum ’long Moses, you’ll not git los’; 

Let meh people go; 

Stritch out yo’ rod an’ cum ercross; 

Let meh people go.” 

“Stop singing, Uncle Ezzy, and go on with your 
story.” 

‘‘Jes’ think ub dat chile callin’ me uncle. I ? s 
gwine ter teck him fishinin’ ev’y day wid me, an’ sorf 
crabbin’, too, when I gits dis boat fix’. He is de ve’y 
spit ub Ole Mars. Well, young Marster, I wo’ uh 
gray nuniform, an’ rode de bes’ mule in de Souf, name 
Pigeon. Some wha erboutin Ohrismus, 1862, close 
ter Lexington, Tenn., uh gre’t big kunnel s’ rendered 
ter Mars Bedford. He wuz almos’ skeered stiff, 
trem’lin’ like uh aspine leaf, but when Mars Bedford 
say, smilin’, ‘You fellows didn’ meek much ub uh 
fight,’ it gib dat kunnel condidence, an’ rite ’way he 
look peart an’ say, ‘Gen’l, won’ you please exchange 
me soon?’ An’ Mars Bedford say, ‘Yas; go an’ git 
me de bes’ mule in yo’ cumman’, an’ I’ll exchange 
you fuh de mule.’ Dat’s how I got Pigeon. Befo’ 
dat I had uh wufless, lazy hoss, an’ Mars Bedford 
wanted ev’ything lively ’roun’ him. Hen ergin, I 
carried uh coffeepot, jes’ big ’nuff fuh me and Mars 
Bedford, sugah, coffee, hard-tack, blackin’, blackin’ 
brush, soap an’ towels, an’ sich like. De Gen’l tied 
strings ’roun’ de bottoms ub uh heavy par ub canvas 


[ 187 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


pants, an’ I stuffed deah legs full, tell dey jes’ strut 
out; den I put dem straddle Pigeon’s back an’ tied 
’em ter de saddle so ef’n de amblabus wuz bellin’ I 
bad ’nuff perwissions fuh Mars Bedford an’ me tell 
de amblabus cum up. Pigeon, sue al’ays kep’ up. De 
mammy ub dat mule mus’ ub bin uh tburrybred, sbe 
wuz al’ays peart an’ fresh; de fac’ is, da wan’ much 
jackass erbout huh; sbe nebber blowed bub trumpet 
’ceppin she borngry. When I got ev’ything on meh 
abmy saddle, front an’ back, de pack wuz erbout up 
ter meb shoulders when I sot in de saddle, but den 
ergin, it didn’ pester me, kase I wuz almos’ settin’ in 
ub bungproof. 

"Pigeon wuz ve’y feard ub watab (da sut’ny wuz no 
Babtis’ blood in bub) an’ dat mecks me think ub what 
dey call de Str eight raid. It wuz in April, 1863. 
Mars Bedford bad been figbtin’ consonly fub days, 
an’ de bosses an’ men hadn’ slep’ fub two nights, ’cep- 
pin in de saddle, an’ bad nuffin ter eat. Mars Bed- 
ford picked up uh box ub crackers, put dem in bis am- 
blabus an’ divided ’em wid bis men. Da wan’ ub 
thing in meb pants legs futto eat, ’twuz ’zausted. 
Befo’ tryin’ ter cross what dey call Black Creek de 
Gen’l made ub speech ter bis men, callin’ fub all dat 
wuz willin’ ter cross; all ’sponded ’ceppin de men 
asleep in deah saddles, an’ I wuz one ub ’em. Gen’l 
Streight wuz retretin’ jes’ ez fars’ ez he cud, an’ cross 


[ 188 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


ober an’ bu’nt de bridge ober Black Creek. De creek 
wuz muddy, swollen, deep an’ dangersome. Mars 
Bedford wuz meddotatin’ how ter cross, an’ de sharp- 
shooters wuz firin’ fum de udder side. Seberal ladies 
walked up, an’ one ub ’em erbout sebenteen year ole, 
say, ‘Whose cumman’ is dis?’ an’ somebody said, ‘De 
advance ub Gen’l Forrest’s oavelry.’ She wuz all 
stirred up, an’ she say, ‘Pint Gen’l Forrest out,’ an’ 
when dey pinted him out she made such uh curchysy 
she mos > swep’ de groun’, wiped wid huh ap’on de 
pusspuration fum huh face and said, ‘Dear Gen’l For- 
rest an’ brabe soldiers, I know ub an ole ford neah 
heah, erboutin uh harf mile ’way, an’ ef’n I had uh 
mount I cud teck you rite ter de ford. We hab no 
hosses; dem blue coats teck ’em all. De way is th’oo 
briars an’ fallen trees an’ drif’wood an’ sich like. I 
kyant walk well in it.’ Den Mars Bedford say, ‘I 
will put you up behin’ me, my chile.’ Then huh ma 
say, ‘JSTo! ISTo! meh daughter; you mout git kilt, an’ 
you is meh only yew lam’.’ Den Mars Bedford say, 
drappin’ dem sorf eyes ub his’n on huh an’ lookin’ ez 
fine ez uh cherrypin er serrypin, ‘Git up behin’ me 
fum dis fallen tree.’ Den huh mudda almos’ hab 
spavins, but she clum up on dat hoss. Mars Bedford 
call fuh uh scout an’ ’way he went. Ub cose I wuz 
wid him; jumpin’ logs, tearin’ up de briars an’ weeds. 
Arfter dey had gone boutin uh harf mile, Miss Emma, 


1 189 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


dat wuz huh name, say, ‘Stop, Gen’l Forrest, dis heah 
ravine runs down ter dat ford an’ de ford runs dis 
way: > .’ Den dey got off an’ walked ter de 

ribba, but de watah wuz so high an’ so muddy dey 
cudn’ see de ford; but she say, ‘It’s bin heah ev’y 
sence I wuz uh baby. I know almos’ ev’y rock in it 
an’ ezac’ly wha it is.’ Den I heah bang ! bang ! bang ! 
and den erboutin fo’ty bangs, an’ heah cum de bullets. 
I wuz peepin’ wid Pigeon fum behin’ uh big rock. 
Oh, I wuz aVays wid him. Den I heah Miss Emma 
say, ‘Gen’l stan’ behin’ me; dey won’ shoot me.’ Mars 
Bedford say, ‘Git behin’ dat rock an’ stay da tell I 
cum fuh you.’ Den Mars Bedford teck out his spy- 
glass an’ spied all ’roun’ an’ he heah some twigs 
crackin’ behin’ him, an’ he looked ’roun’, an’ da wuz 
dat chile almos’ in his footprints. De Gen’l’s eyes al- 
mos’ spit fire, an’ his mouf trimbled. Den he say, 
jes’ like he orderin’ uh charge, ‘Stay behin’ dat rock!’ 
Den she say, ‘Gen’l, I wuz fear’d you mout be wound- 
ed, an’ I wanted ter be neali you.’ Den he sot down 
befo’ de rock — me an’ Pigeon wuz behin’ — tu’n’d his 
sorf eyes up ter de sky an’ say, ‘De worV kyant wliup 
us wid seek women V* Pres’ny he holped huh up de 

* “The legislature of Alabama donated to Miss Sanson a section 
of the unappropriated public lands of the state as a testimonial 
of the high appreciation of her services by the people of Alabama, 
and directed the Governor of the State to provide and present 
her with a gold medal, inscribed with suitable devices commem- 
orative of her conduct.” 


[ 190 ] 



MISS EMMA, DAT WUZ HUH NAME 






Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


ravine — all de time de sharpshooters wuz firin', an' 
some ub de balls wen' th'oo huh dress — an' when she 
got up de ravine she say, ‘Dey jes' wounded meh 
crin'line !' an' she tuck orf huh sunbonnet an' shuck 
it at 'em. Gen'l Forrest sant her back ter tell de res' 
ub de cumman' ter cum, artil'ry fus'. Almos' befo' 
dey got ter de ford dey limbered up, fired uh few 
bung-shots, an' dem blue coats soon lef' dat ford. 
Den Mars Bedford tole one ub his officers ter teck uh 
regiment an' hole dat ford, and dey hilt it. Ev'y- 
thing wuz ready, an' Mars Bedford started erhaid 
ober de ford, when Miss Emma call him back, almos' 
cryin', and she say, ‘You'r gwine 'rong; you see de 
ford run dis way: > Den she clum er rock 
an' say, ‘Lemmy git up in front ub you an' ^how de 
way.' De Gen'l say, ‘No; git up behin'; dey mout 
shoot you.' An' she say, ‘No; I mus' ride in front, 
hab de reins, so dat I meek no mustake.' Den Mars 
Bedford teck orf his nuniform coat, fold an' put it in 
front ub him, den he teck orf his felt hat an' put it 
on de coat, an' she jump on jes' ez spry ez uh colt, an' 
he say ter his soldiers, ‘Follow me.' His scout, Mars 
Torm, wuz one ub de fus' ter follow. Mars Bedford 
stop his hoss an' say, ‘You kyant go; yo ahm is badly 
shot an' broken; you is not fit ter fight er swim.' So 
den he wuz orf ergin. De hosses wuz neighin , de 
creek wuz twissin', rum’lin' an’ tum’lin’, de hosses 


[ 191 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


stopping stum’lin’, an’ backin’ jes’ de same ez ef’n 
’twuz dark. I cudn’ say nuffin but meh prayers, 
an’ I mos’ choke sayin’ dem. Mo’n dat, Pigeon she 
wuz carryin’ on high, jes scan’lus; wudn’ eben put 
huh feet in de watah. De watah wuz so high dey 
had ter teck de caissions orf, an’ de soldiers waded wid 
de powder on deah shoulders. It tuck two hours ter 
cross, but bless Gord, dey all got ober. Befo’ dey got 
harf way ’cross Mrs. Sanson, Miss Emma’s mudda, wuz 
at de ford, an’ she wuz almos’ ’zausted fum walkin’ 
th’oo de briars an’ tangled bushes.” 

Ezra commenced again to chink his boat, singing — 

“You’ll not git los’ in de wilderness; 

Let meh people go; 

Wid uh lighted can’le in yo’ bres’; 

Let meh people go.” 

Arthur was by this time intensely interested, and 
after Ezra had bitten off a fresh chew of tobacco, said, 
“Well, what then?” 

“Well, den Mars Bedford rode back wid Miss Em- 
ma, got orf his hoss, tuck her down — I nebba saw him 
so ’cited an’ hainsome. Den he mounted, tuck orf 
his hat, kissed his han’, jes’ so, an’ soon he wuz dashin’ 
up de hill ter jine his troops. Mars Torm, po’ feller, 
did look so ’stressed ter be lef’ behin’. 

“When Mars Bedford wan’ talkin’ his eyes jes’ ez 


[ 192 ] 


Ole Mars aii > Ole Miss. 


sorf ez uh ’possum’s, but when he wuz serioussum an’ 
opened his mouf, da wan’ no apples in his eyes, nuffin 
but fire, an’ when he tole his favorite scout, Mars 
Torm, ter stay back, he jes’ tuck root on dat spot. 

“He wuz uh ve’y curisome man; fuh instinc’, he 
had uh swo’d made jes’ futto suit hissef. It wan’ 
quite ez long ez uh fence-rail, but mos’ nighly; you 
wudn’ think he wud cut blue coats haids orf but he 
wud. It’s so curisome — he wuz so gentle an’ he talk 
so sorf, but den ergin his eyes, when he on uh scout er 
charge, jes’ like uh fish-hawk’s. How-some-ebba, I 
once heah ole Mars Hickey say uh race hoss dat 
prances an’ bucks an’ goes ev’y which way at de pos’ — 
jes’ like uh dug-out in rough watah — ain’ no race 
hoss ; dey th’ow up deah tails befo’ dey go two miles. 
But de nice quiet ones like de fo-mile hosses Mars 
Matthew use ter own, when dey at de pos’ you’d s’pose 
dey habin’ deah pictur taken. Well, Mars Bedford 
wuz sho’ly uh fo’-miler in his ways, an’ he al’ays had 
his way, too. 

“Mrs. Sanson inwited Mars Torm ter meek huh 
house his home tell he git well; mo’n dat, she spressifv 
huhsef dat she al’ays lubbed ter nuss Cornfederates. 
Den she look at Pigeon an’ me an’ say, ‘I kin teck 
good care ub you, too, an’ yo’ mule. Peter, Simon an’ 
Haney is ve’y ole, so you kin holp ’em ter milk de 
cows, chu’n de butter an’ pick de strawberries. Young 


[ 193 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


Marster, I stayed da fuh two weeks, until de watah 
fell in Black Creek. I got fat, so did Pigeon, an’ den 
I crossed de creek an’ jined Mars Bedford. 

“ ’Twuz jes’ erboutin harves’ time; 

Let meh people go; 

When Joshua led his hos’ divine; 

Let meh people go.” 

“Oh, go on, Uncle Ezzy.” 

“Well, in erboutin free monfs Mars Torm, de scout, 
jined us. He looked fat an’ slick, an’ Gen’l Forrest 
lubbed an ? ’spected him so he kissed him. He didn’ 
kiss me, but I wud uh kissed him.” 

Between you and me, kind reader, after greeting 
General Forrest, “Mars Torm” hurried to his humble 
hammock. His thoughts were more of “Black 
Creek” than the tented field. From a pocket in his 
gray jacket he pulled out and fondly kissed a daguerre- 
otype. When he opened it a pressed rose leaf fell 
out. It may have been the rose leaf which a dear 
kind hand had placed between the pages she loved to 
read to him, and the mate to the one he had. He 
sank into his hammock, and the tranquil twilight saw 
him weeping, and then reciting : 

“Between two songs of Petrarch, 

I’ve a purple rose leaf prest, 

More sweet than common rose leaves, 

For it once lay in her breast. 


[ 194 ] 



MARS TORM. 

(From a time-worn photograph.) 

His thoughts were more of “Black Creek” than the tented field. 







































































Ole Mars a?i’ Ole Miss. 

When she gave me that her eyes were wet, 

The rose was full of dew; 

The rose is withered long ago — 

The page is blistered, too. 

“One night we sat below the porch, 

And out in that warm air, 

A firefly, like a dying star, 

Fell tangled in her hair; 

But I kissed him lightly off again, 

And he glittered up the vine, 

And died into the darkness ” 

A bugle sounded. Forrest was in the saddle. The 
scout’s reverie was over. 

“Well, de nex’ big fight wuz at what dey call 
‘Brice’s Cross Roads;’ dat’s de place Mars Bedford 
had uh spavin [fainted] fuh one hour. I fanned him 
consonly wid meh hat; he had de gre’tes’ condidence 
in me. At uh place call ‘Ripley’, a few days befo’ 
dis fight, uh farmer sant what dey call in Mississippi, 
mountain oysters ter Mars Bedford. Dey ain’ nuffin 
ter Eastern Sho’ oysters ; some people say dat Mars 
Bedford eat too many an’ dey gib him de spavin, but 
I know dat ain’ so. I wuz waitin’ on de table an’ 
stan’in’ rite behin’ him, an’ arfter helpin’ Gen’l Beau- 
ford an’ Gen’l Rucker he stir dat soup fuh mo’n five 
minutes befo’ uh mountain oyster cum on top. Den 
I say, ‘Dar’s one, Marster,’ an’ he tu’n an’ gimmy uh 
look wid dem eagle eyes ub his’n dat meek me trimble. 


[ 195 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

I know what meek him sick, an’ I’m gwine ter tell 
you. De fightin’ wuz so furisome dat Gen’l Forrest 
say ter his bodyguard, ‘Dismount; draw yo’ swo’ds 
an’ foller me,’ an’ when de blue coats seed Mars Bed- 
ford, ’way dey went. Well, he had so few men ’long 
side de blue coats, dat not uh man cud be spared ter 
go an’ git watah, so Mars Bedford felt so thusty an’ 
weary dat he drunk de powder watah fum de sponge 
bucket, an’ dat’s what gib him dat spavin. 

“Honey, you ain’ but fifteen years ole> so Brer 
Sam’l say, an’ ef’n I wuz ter tell you how many wuz 
kilt an’ wounded in dat fight it might meek you see 
ghoses an’ witches in yo’ sleep, an’ keep you fum 
growin’. I hilt Gen’l Forrest’s hoss, Pigeon an’ two 
other hosses when he dismounted, an’ ’pears ter me de 
hosses looked ’stressed, da wuz so many kilt on bof 
sides. How, dat’s all I’m gwine ter tell you erboutin 
battles. 

“Young Marster, chillun musn’ know too much. 
Fuh instinct, yistiddy I wuz chinkin’ dis boat (an’ I 
gwine ter name huh Miss Emma) when Mars Jimmy’s 
chillun cum erlong gwine home fum school ; dey clum 
all ober me, an’ pres’ny one ub ’em say, ‘Uncle Ezzy, 
what is uh vulgar fraction ?’ Ub cose, I had ter tell 
de truf, so I say, ‘Hit’s somethin’ little boys an’ girls 
musn’ talk erbout.’ 

“In May, 1865, we all s’rendered at Gainesville, 

[196] 







Uncle Ezzy, what is a vulgar fraction? 

TJb cose, I had ter tell de truf, so I say hit’s somethin' 
little boys an’ girls mus’n’ talk erbout. 









































































Ole Mars an y Ole Miss. 


Alabama. Mars Bedford gib me Pigeon an 7 money 
ter cum home wid ef’n I wanted ter. Full fo 7 days 
I hunted 7 roun 7 G-ainesville 7 mong de troops futto fine 
Mars Torm. I knew 7 d he lib near Borne, Georgia, 
an 7 , ub cose, he had ter ride de same road I did, so I 
wanted him ter let me ride ez far ez Mrs. Sanson 7 s 
wid him. Dem sweet people wuz so kine ter me I 
wuz gwine ter gib ’em Pigeon; mo’n dat, I wuz feard 
ter ride by mehsef in uh gray nuniform fum Gaines- 
ville ter Black Creek, erboutin two hunard miles. 
How-some-ebba, I ’eluded ter ride jes 7 at night, an 7 
bless Gord, in erbout uh week I struck Black Creek 
ford horngry an 7 tired. De birds wuz singin 7 , roostus 
crowin 7 , hens uh cacklin’ an 7 de watah in de creek 
ez clear ez uh jewdrap, an 7 Pigeon she jes 7 nach’ly 
went in de watah kase she seed Mrs. Sanson’s house — 
wuz horngry an 7 ve’y tired. I wuzn 7 watchin 7 de 
mule, an 7 de fus 7 thing I knewed Pigeon gib uh mon- 
stus buck an 7 mos 7 jumped of’n de ford in dat deep 
watah; den she tuck uh good look wid huh ears an 7 
went ’long — -an 7 what you s’pose frighten’d dat mule ? 
He ! he ! he ! he ! dar sot on uh plank ’tween two rocks 
Mars Torm (no wunna I cudn 7 fine him) an 7 Miss 
Emma fishin 7 in de deep watah at de foot ub de ford. 
I meek bleebe I didn 7 see ’em, an 7 dey sutfny didn 7 
see me; you see dey wuz fishin 7 . When I got ’cross 
de ford, Pigeon wuz so tired she stop an 7 res’, an 7 I 


[ 197 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 

watch to see ef’n de fish bitin’, kase I wuz al’ays fond 
ub fishin’, and I heah Mars Torm say, in words ez sorf 
ez dem riffies, ‘I lub dis creek ; de watah so repose, an’ 
cums twissin’ in dis big pool gittin’ stiller an’ stiller 
tell it seems ter stop, res’ an’ be so happy. Oh, ef’n 
meh hyart wuz ez happy ez dis stream ! It chatters, 
an’ sings, an’ smiles, an’ baves itself in de sunlight ; it 
looks so contented, but I am so sad’ — an’ he did look 
rejected. Den Miss Emma open huh cherrypin mouf 
an’ say raal sorf, ‘What’s de mattah; yo’ ole woun’ 
hurt you?’ An’ he say, ‘No; it’s de new woun’; I 
mus’ leabe ter-morrow, so I mus’ tell you dat yo’ 
sweet eyes, lubly hyart, beautiful, brabe soul has 
’chanted me ev’y sence I fus’ saw you, an’ I wan’ ter 
arsk befo’ I go, dear Miss Emma, dat you will let me 
lub you. I don’ arsk you ter lub me.’ Jes’ de way I 
use ter cote — He! He! He! ’ceppin I use ter say: 

“Koses red, wiolets blue, 

Sugah sweet, me too.” 

“Den Mars Torm spressify, ‘Fuh free monfs, dear 
hyart, I et yo’ bread an’ butter’ — an’ I think he say 
mullasses — ‘an’ ter-morrow I go ter seek meh fortune, 
an’ ef’n Gord prospers me, I shall arsk you to meek 
meh life ’chanted.’ Den she say, ez sorf ez de note 
ub uh martingale , ‘Thormas.’ Den he say, ‘Angel, 
did you say Thormas?’ An’ she say, ‘Yes; meh brabe 


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Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


an’ gentle’ — an’ rite ’way ’pears ter me dey bof had 
on dat big sunbonnet ub her’n; an’ wnssa yit, de two 
fishin’ rods wid deah reels wuz floatin’ down dat ribba, 
ober an’ ober de riffles. Dey wuz fogot when dem 
two c'hillun said yes ter one nerr. 

“Well, ’pears ter me all ub uh sudden I got so 
sleepy dat I put meh ahms ’roun’ Pigeon’s neck (she 
wuz use ter dat) an’ went ter sleep. Bimeby I woke 
up wid uh curisome an’ mos’ quaresome feelin’. Bless 
de Lawd, I tho’t uh jack-uh-ma-lantern had got me, 
sho’. Dem chilluns wuz feelin’ so peart an’ sassy dat 
dey tied erroun’ meh neck uh live eel dey had kotch, 
an’ I wudn’ fogit er fogib ’em ter dis day ’ceppin dey 
wuz in lub an’ I wuz uh lissinin.’ Honey, I wuz 
skeard stiff. Bung shells wuz nuffin ter dat. 

“Dey wuz all so kin’ at Mrs. Sanson’s (de Lawd 
bless dem people) I stayed dar two weeks res’in’, an’ 
den dey sent me ter Rome, Georgy, futto teck de train 
fuh ‘Fairlands.’ When I got in de kerridge ’long 
side Simon, Miss Emma say, ‘Dear me, Ezra, what is 
you gwine ter do wid Pigeon?’ So I say, larffin’ an’ 
sassy like, ‘I gib huh ter you, Miss Emma, an’ Mars 
Torm, fuh uh weddin’ present.’ Mars Thormas smile 
an’ say, ‘You scan’lus ole scamp.’ ” 

In his narrative dear old Ezra showed wonderful 
memory, but forgot to mention that in that hour of 
anguish, whilst crossing Black Creek, as the waters 


[ 199 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 

got deeper and deeper, finally up to the flanks of the 
horses, Mrs. Sanson sank upon her knees and with 
wrinkled, aged and uplifted hands, said : 

“From lightning and tempest, from plague, pesti- 
lence and famine, from battle and murder, and from 
sudden death, 

“Good Lord deliver us .” 

Early in the spring of 1866 Ezzy frequently pad- 
died his canoe over to “Woodstock,” where in a cabin 
on the riverside lived Jerry and Ceasar Butler, old 
bachelor brothers. Their sister Cassey, a widow of 
some six months, was their guest. The brothers for 
the most part lived out on the water, oystering, fishing 
and crabbing. Cassey liked her surroundings so 
much that her visit was now three months long, and 
she interested herself mostly in raising chickens and 
ducks. The dusky damsels in the neighborhood said 
Cassey was going to marry Brer Snake Bit Jim, a 
hand on Captain Stitchberry’s schooner, the “Marga- 
ret Jane,” and he had been keeping company, as they 
expressed it, with her for about five months. She 
was the loudest singer in Zion church, a wholesale 
Baptist, and walked in the water like a pious one when 
immersion time came, and some uncharitable people 
said that when she came home from meeting chickens 
had better roost high. Though twenty years younger 


[ 200 ] 


Ole Mars an > Ole Miss. 


than Ezra, his war stories and adventures charmed 
her. She thought him a hero and soon they were be- 
trothed. Ezra was not one of the slow-paced sort. 

Ezra’s young Marster was very much annoyed at 
the idea of his marrying Cassey. He knew her to be 
self-willed and high tempered, and told Ezra that if 
he brought her to Fairlands he would charge him $25 
a year for his quarter and ten acres ; but Ezra was too 
fond of telling war tales and having a listener that al- 
most smothered him with caresses when he told of 
hair-breadth escapes. So one bright Hay day Parson 
Phil Demby pronounced them man and wife — his 
third wife. 

Ezra made a living crabbing, fishing, oystering and 
cultivating a little grain. He was an expert angler, 
and if a dinner was given by any of the gentry be- 
tween May and November and a boiling rock wanted, 
Ezra was notified and he would be sure to catch the 
rock. He loved children and children loved him. If 
the overseers’ little ones wanted to go fishing, they 
would go to the garden and in sight of him commence 
to dig worms and when they reached the bateau, he 
would be there bailing or shoving her from shore. 
Soon he would add sufficient peelers and soft crabs to 
the bate, and then to the hurdle. Ezra’s pole, some 
eighteen feet long, was of cedar growth, with the bark 
stripped off ; a coarse line and cork about the size of a 


[ 201 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


duck egg, and When he gave a grunt and slashed it 
out, the water almost surged; but somehow or other, 
the fish, and good ones, too, loved his bait. “Ef’n 
you chilluns don’ stop er talkin’ an’ rockin’ dis boat 
I’ll paddle straight home. You pester de fish so dey 
won’ bite, an’ hit ’stresses me pow’ful.” 

Autumn came and he did not find his quarter as 
happy as formerly. As a consequence, he spent a 
great deal of his time at the mansion. Even the sol- 
emn and sour old maiden housekeeper, Miss Betsy, 
whose apron strings were strung with keys and who 
for forty years had lived at Eairlands, was indulgent, 
and welcomed him. One day I came upon him clean- 
ing her bird cage and singing over and over : 

“Tell me a dream, M-a-r-y, 

Tell me a dream; 

My Lawd, de King ub Manuel.” 

I said, “Why don’t those canaries lay ?” 

“Miss Betsy say dey bof boys,” was his reply. 

The cook liked him, and he liked her more than he 
did Cassey. He often toted for her baskets of chips 
to make the fire burn brightly, put on the big back 
logs, and turned the turkey in the tin kitchen. Twice 
a week on winter nights he was sent for to beat the 
hominy in the big mortar. When he grew weary of 
the iron pestle, and wanted to chaff some servant, he 
would say, “I sut’ny does lub ter beat dis hominy — a 


[ 202 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


— heh — heh — hell,” and then we boys would “spell” 
him and he would praise our industry until we nearly 
collapsed from fatigue. 

“O, call hack yesterday; bid time return.” 

He had a local reputation for his original sayings 
and deserved it. For example: “You kyant eat uh 
hoecake but once;” “All moufs mus’ eat, but all 
moufs kyant eat gravel;” “Ev’y man’s mouf ain’ uh 
prayer book;” “Uh case orntried is hyard ter justify;” 
etc., but from being chaffed by the young men at the 
“Royal Oak” and St. Michaels, towns near by, where 
he sold his crabs and fish, and bought fishhooks and 
tobacco, had become somewhat shy and reticent. 

One cold and windy day in December I started for 
Wild Goose Marsh, famous as snipe ground, with the 
view of burning the same. So to fully enjoy Ezra’s 
confidence and to get him to talk freely, I put a half- 
dollar in his hand, invited him to stop shucking oys- 
ters and go with me to the marsh and assist in burning 
the same. His young Marster’s pointers, “Rob Roy” 
and “Rose,” whom he had adopted and who had 
adopted him, were lying in his boat. He expatiated 
a few moments upon the “quaresomeness ub snipe an’ 
jack-uh-ma-lanterns,” and then got in my carriage. 
Meantime I was taking in his raiment. He said, “I’m 
not dress up, kase I’m shuckin’ oysters.” He wore 


[ 203 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


an old dressing gown some one had given him in the 
long ago. It must have had twenty patches from the 
size of a blacking box up to a tin plate. His vest, 
from patches, was of many colors; it was fastened with 
seven buttons, and no two of them alike. One foot 
was shod, and the other wrapped in an old piece of 
carpet. “Meh cawns hu’t me so,” he said. He was 
smaller and more bent than ever, and extremely inter- 
esting. A drink of applejack and a good lunch, the 
brilliancy of the burning marsh and my interest in 
him made him very loquacious. With apparent earn- 
estness I said, “Uncle Ezra, how long have you lived 
on this estate ?” 

“Who, me! Bawn heah erboutin uh hunard year 
ago. I cum outin de Hollyday fambly. Ole Mars’ 
grabe is ober dar wha you see dem willows weepin’. 
Dar’s uh gre’t big slab ober de grabe, an’ on hit is uh 
passel ub A. B. C.’s an’ uh anker, wid stars an’ eagles 
an’ little grapevines all erroun’ ’em. Mars Pinckney 
say, ‘Dat’s what dey call in dem days de coat ub mail.’ 
His wuz uh gre’t fambly, an’ Mars Thormas wuz uh 
cap’n an’ fit an’ wuz kilt in de Resolutionary Wah.” 

“Are you sure of that, IJncle Ezzy?” 

“ ’Cose I is. I heah Phil Demby’s fadda say dat 
he holp ter put him in de amblabus when he wuz shot. 
He saw de British what shot him, an’ de ve’y bung- 
shot dat hit him. Boss, what glorisome days dem 


[ 204 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


wuz. I kin recommember ’em mehsef. Dese days 
’pears ter me dey is spilin’ ev’y thing by changin’. An’ 
hits ergin de Scripturs. Fuh instinct, when I wuz uh 
young man de Mefodis’ ’roun’ heah use ter hab what 
dey call meetin’ houses; dey use ter shout an’ moan, 
an’ moan an’ shout pow’ful. Dey cummence ter pray 
at fus’ sorf, an’ den deah voice got so strong toreckly 
you cud heah ’em uh mile orf. An’ de chunes wuz 
so fine, dey didn’ stop at de corners; dey jes’ swong 
’roun’; dey cud turn deah voices same ez uh whirl- 
win’ an’ ter play de fiddle, dance, er hab uh melojin 
wuz cornsidered ornry an’ onricheous, an’ hit wuz, too. 
But in dese days ev’ything is changed in all de 
chuches, ’ceppin de Babtis’ ; de only change de Babtis’ 
made is ter babtize regular in fresh watah in Cap’n 
Tomlinson’s mill pon’, ’ ceppin jes^ befo’ dey cut ice. 
You see dey had ter gib up salt watah, de shirks wuz 
so bad. Mo’n dat, de Bible don’ spressify salt watah. 
Den ergin Pawson Demby tuck de shirk fright an’ 
de consequasion wuz he hilt several pussons down too 
long. Tilly Mink got erligion an’ wuz thinkin’ 
boutin it so much (jes’ persidderin hit all de time) dat 
she fogot ter teck outin her dress some apples dat 
wuz swotuated in huh pocket. Well, Pawson Demby 
hilt her un’er so long dat she pawed de bottom; almos’ 
tore huh dress orf, an’ she mout erbin hilt un’er de 
watah tell she wuz drowned, but she got holt Pawson 


[ 205 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


Demby’s legs, an’ fuh erwhile it ’peared like sbe wuz 
babtizin’ bim. Brer Billy los’ bis specks lars’ spring, 
so cudn’ see good, an’ when be seed de apples nb bob- 
bin’ np, I s’pose be tho’t dey wuz sperrits, kase be sung 
out ter Pawson Demby, ‘Jes’ gib bub annubba dip, 
Pawson Demby, bub sins is cummin’ up fum hub in 
clustahs;’ but Pawson Demby lef’ well ernuff be well 
ernuff. Kase Tilly Mink nebba did bab much erlig- 
ion, an’ when sbe seed dat distracted frock an’ dem 
kyart-house apples dat we all knew’d growed in Ole 
Mars’ arcbard, bub ’ligion lef’ bub jes’ ez fars ez sbe 
got it. Hub hyab riz on bub baid, an’ she talked jes’ 
scan’lous, an’ ’lowed sbe gwine ter jine de Presbyters. 
Well, bit may be fub de bes’, but ub case orntried is 
hyard ter jestify.” 

“Yas, sab; ev’y thing is changed. Ebin Mefodis’ 
preachers an’ de elders, sbub. Dey struts an’ prances 
erroun’ same ez colts an’ tukkey gobblers in de spring, 
an’ bits dribin ub lot ub ’em ter distraction. All 
moufs ain’ prayer books, boss. Hit’s de same thing 
wid dem Presbyters dat Tillie’s gwine ter jine, an’ 
when it cums ter de ’Piscopaliums hit’s wussa yit. Hp 
be'ab at St. Thormasses dey bu’n insects in what dey 
call uh — I fogit de name — an’ dem preachers dat 
kyant talk good — an’ mos’ ub ’em kyant — dey sorter 
sing what dey talkin’. I beab Cap’n Stitchberry’s 
brer say who balls de sain — an’, ub cose, be er Babtis’ 


[ 206 ] 


Ole Mars art Ole Miss. 


— dat ef’n Ole Mars wuz erlive an’ went ter St. 
Thormasses, he wudn’ no wha he wuz, kase dey bows 
like uh passel nb muscovy drakes. Boss, dem mus- 
coves is quaresome ducks. T’other day I saw Brer 
Sam’s boy, Kasmus, bowin’ ter uh passel ub muscovy 
drakes an’ dey wuz bowin’ ter him. So I say ter de 
boy, ‘What you doin’ ter dem ducks?’ 

“ ‘Talkin’ drake talk.’ 

“ ‘Well, what de ducks say?’ 

“ ‘I dunno, but dey do !’ 

“All dis changin’ business is ergin de Bible, too. 
Lars’ Sunday Pawson Demby preached erbout hit. 
His tex’ wuz fum de Profit Jerry-Myah: ‘Kin uh 
Ethiopium change his skin er uh leopard his spots?’ 
An’ Pawson Demby say ’twuz ornpossible. 

“Jes’ befo’ Chrismus I went ter Easton wid uh load 
ub Chrismus trees, an’ one ub de fus’ things I seed 
wuz uh lubly lookin’ young Mistis dribin uh cullud 
pusson; he wuz uh settin’ behin’ huh wid his ahms 
folded, all dress up an’ smilin’ same ez uh ole gray 
goose smilin’ on uh gander. Well, I nebba ’spected 
ter lib ter see uh change like dat. Eac’ is, mos’ all 
de ladies ’roun’ heah gittin’ changed, an’ ve’y sassy, 
tryin’ ter be like de men. Euh instinct, dar is uh 
lady doctor an’ uh lady lawyer, dey tells me, in 
Balt’mo’. Think ub dat! An’ hit’s all ergin de’ struc- 


[ 207 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss . 


tions ub Gen’ sis, Rebullation, Jerry-Myah, Hoahy an’ 
I ’specks all ub de profits. Kase de Bible say dat 
’ooman kyant ebin pray in publuc. Boss, da ain’ no 
use talkin’, fum de cricket an’ grasshopper clean up 
ter man, de male de gre’tes’ an’ bes’ lookin’. Dar’s 
uh little Jinny Wren settin’ on dat reed singin’ 
beau’ful. How, ain’ hit s’prisin’ wha he git dat voice 
fum dat you kin heah ’cross de ribba; hit sut’ny is 
strange. Well, dat he wren, don’ he look peart; an’ 
he is peart, too. He kin meek uh hawk hide hissef. 
You see he’s de male. Well, look at dat cock spar- 
row; don’ de hen look meek ’long side him? Boss, 
I’m gwine ter teck mos’ ev’ything dat wuz in de yark, 
ter show dat ladies musn’ try ter be men, an’ change 
deahsebs. Hit kyant be did any mo’ dan you kin 
gib de female birds de feathers ub de males. I s’pose 
de bobolink is de mos’ dress up ub all birds, fuh he 
changes his clothes twice uh yeah, an’ when he got 
on dat beau’ful spring suit ub his’n his wives do 
clustah erroun’ him. He cock partridge (some peo- 
ple call ’em Bob White), de oriole, pigeon, teal duck, 
tukkey, canlas-back duck, woodpecker, red-wing 
blackbird, de wood-duck, tu beau’ful futto kill; how 
lubly de males is ’long side de females. Den ergin, 
pursidder de roostus; don’ matter ef’n dey shankhy, 
banty, game, er what not, dey’r boun’ ter hab lubly 
feathers all streaked an’ striped same ez dem cattle 


[ 208 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


dat Jacob, de father ub de Petracks, owned. Mo’n 
dat, ef’n two roostus fight, de one dat whups jes’ 
crows, flaps his wings, an’ heah cnms his wives an’ 
de ndder roostah’s wives all runnin’ off wid him. Dat’s 
jes’ de way de ladies ’roun’ heah runs arfter Mars 
Pinckney.” 

Ezra seemed much pleased with his talk, and with 
a wisp of burning grass in each hand, continued to 
fire the marsh, and for the moment forgot my pres- 
ence and sang: 

“We cum ter dis worl’ bof naked an’ bare, 

We al’ays goes thoo it wid sorrow an’ care; 

We go when we die de Lawd only nose wha’; 

Ef’n you’r uh thurrybred heah, yo’ll be uh thurrybred da.” 

Pretending to entirely dissent with Ezra and to 
keep him interested and talkative, I said, “Well, how 
about robins, doves, mocking birds, jack snipe, wood- 
cock and other birds where the male and female are 
alike?” 

“Well, boss, Mars Pinckney say ef’n you gib de 
birds you kyant tell erbout uh wumm, ef’n he takes 
it hit’s uh he, an ef’n she takes it hit’s uh she.” 

“How about owls, Ezra; they look alike, and they 
don’t eat worms?” 

“Well, Hoahy, dey tell me, name him de bird ub 
wissum, an’ ub cose made him wise, an’ de female 
kyant fool him, like dey mos ’ gently kin de males. Euh 


[ 209 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


instinct, when de female owls think deahsebs smart — 
bin out all night an’ talkin’ in condidence ’mong 
deahsebs erbout it — de male, ef’n he deceitful (an’ 
some males fs), kin lissen an’ nod his haid jes’ same 
ez ef he wuz uh sleep an’ meek bleebe he uh lady 
owl, an by an’ by all unbenonsted ter de lady owl, 
fine out ef’n his wife bin uh tootin’ an’ uh hootin’ 
erroun’. Mo’n dat, he mout erbin keepin’ comp’ny 
hissef all night wid some sassy lady owl. Bar’s wJia 
his wissum cum in. 

“S’pose de gentlemens an’ ladies look jes’ like one 
nerr an’ dress up de same, Lawdy, by an’ by heah wud 
cum judgment day sho’ nuff, an’ we wud soon burhol 
dis worl’ on fire an’ uh cislin’. So hit won’ do fuh 
dem ter look de same, an’ we don’ wan’ no changin’, 
deed we don’; we wants de males ter look proud an’ 
prancin’ all de time, an’ de females ter burhol ’em an’ 
not look sassy. I mos’ fogot one ub de lubliest ub 
de fowls, dat will meek meh sponsibility stronger — 
dat’s de peacock. When de peacock spreads his tail 
in de spring an’ looks his peartest, dey tells me some- 
times de hens git too po’ ter lay; dey so in lub dey 
jes’ eat nuffin ; jes’ meddowtate an’ look at deah 
mates struttin’ erbout. Da ain’ nuffin like uh pea- 
cock’s tail ’ceppin sometimes in de fall when de dew 
is ve’y heavy an’ sorter fog-like an’ fros’-like, jes’ uh 


[ 210 ] 


Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


little missy, an’ heah cum de sun risin’ ; an’ when hit 
strikes de trees, hushes an’ wines full ub dat fog, fros’ 
an’ mis’, da ain’ no rainbow er peacock’s tail kin hole 
uh can’le ter it, I don’ keah who raises de peacock. 
Well, boss, I am sho’ you see de application, but 
strange futto say, Mars Pinckney, wid all his wissum 
an’ pursidderin’, is, ’pears ter me, on de fence. 
Natchelly, ub cose, he is s’pose ter change kase he got 
so many sweethyarts. He is ve’y fon’ ub fishin’ wid 
me. One day we wuz fishin’ fuh rock an’ tailor an’ 
waitin’ fuh de tide ter tu’n. I rents meh house fum 
him. I don’ al’ays pay at de lars’ ub de monf, er 
de lars’ ub nex’ monf, an’ I owed him so much rent I 
wuz mos’ ’fear’d ter argue wid him an’ talk ter him 
wid all meh soul erboutin dis changin’ business ’roun’ 
heah, an’ ub de lubliness ub de male in contras’ ter 
de female; but I did it. Well, den he say, sorter 
snuffin’ meh composation orf, ‘Ezra, you no mo’ erbout 
sorf crabs, fish an’ watahmillions dan you do erbout 
things changin’.’ Den he say, ‘Don’ people all er- 
roun’ heah change money, change deah names when 
dey git merried? Don’ de watah we fish in change 
fum ebb tide ter flood? Eggs ter chickens, sinnahs 
ter moaners, sun, moon, win’ an’ seasons change. De 
acorn changes ter de oak, peach stone ter de peach 
tree. Wumms ter butterflies.” 

“Ezra, your Mars Pinckney is right. That’s the 


[ 211 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


long and short of it. Your Parson changed bap- 
tizing in salt water for fresh water. You have con- 
fessed it, and you are changing all the time. Your 
hair was once black, now it is white. To-day is 
bright, cold, windy and sunny. To-morrow will be 
changed; it can’t be just like to-day. Even your 
oxen, Lawyer 'and Parmer, like a change. Grass is 
good enough when there is no wheat field to jump 
into, but when the wheat is green, sweet and rich, 
they leave the grass.” 

“Jes’ so, boss, jes’ so.” 

“Why, you would get tired of bacon and cabbage 
if you had it all the time.” 

“Who, me ? I nebba got tired ub it yit.” 

“And, Ezra, if Aunt Cassey, your good and kind 
wife, hadn’t changed her mind and married you in- 
stead of Uncle Snake Bit Jim, her name would now 
be Mrs. Snake Bit Jim.” 

“Dat’s what I say, boss ; dat’s de application 
ezactly. I don’ like dis changin’ business. Bless 
Gord, I wish Cassey hadn’ change huh mine.” 

Memories of happier days come to us all. May 
they soften the pillow of dear old Ezra. His first 
wife was my nurse, and many a time his willing 
hands, to give her’s rest, have rocked my cradle. 


[ 212 ] 



Who could our baby tears repress 
And lull us into drowsiness. 

Mammy. 




/ 


Ole Mars an y Ole Miss. 


MAMMY. 


There are pictures of the past in memory’s gal- 
lery before which we love to linger. To one it is per- 
haps the old homestead in the North, or the South. 
To another, a woman’s face. To a woman mayhap 
this picture is suggested by a simple tress of hair, or 
fragrant dust, once violets, or an old letter, perchance 
kissed many times, or tear- wet, who may know? To 
me it is my old — 


MAMMY. 


Who nursed and fed us from her breast 
And in her tender arms caressed? 

Mammy. 

Who washed our faces, combed our hair 
And tied us in our baby chair? 

Mammy. 

Who soaped and bathed our little forms, 
And rocked us in her loving* arms? 

Mammy. 


[ 213 ] 


Ole Mars an 9 Ole Miss. 


Who, when we stumped our little toes, 

Put balsam on to heal our woes? 

Mammy. 

Who could our baby tears repress, 

And lull us into drowsiness? 

Mammy. 

Who tucked us in our baby cot, 

And all our badness soon forgot? 

Mammy. 

Who always patted us to sleep, 

And “Prayed the Lord our souls to keep?” 

Mammy. 

Who rests from sorrow ’neath the sod, 

And all the paths of duty trod? 

Mammy. 


[ 214 ] 


Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


ANAH. 


Uncle David, though threescore years and ten and 
bent with age, was quite useful on the plantation, and 
was not afraid of work. His labor, however, had not 
been of a wearing kind. Once a week he drove Sue, 
a kind and gentle mare, to the mill with a load of corn 
and returned with bags of sweet cornmeal, the like of 
which is hard to get nowadays. 

In 1853 Sue foaled a bay mule colt with a black 
stripe down his back that made a cross on his shoul- 
ders. David christened the colt Anah, because he 
heard Parson Phil Demby preach a pow’ful sermon 
Christmas, the text of which was, “This was that 
Anah that found the mules in the wilderness, as he 
fed the asses of Zibion his father.”* 

Anah was a lively colt, and when David went to the 
mill often romped ahead of Sue on the road, much to 
the anxiety of the mother, and sometimes in a don’t- 
care way lagged behind for a quarter of a mile or 
more; and though Uncle David characterized him as 
worrysome an 9 scan’lous , he was very fond of the colt 
and the colt fond of him. By and by Anah was big 
and old enough to break, and David soon had him 


* Genesis xxxvi, 24. 


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Ole Mars an’ Ole Miss. 


going kindly and taking his old dam’s place in the 
cart. 

David was always relied upon to select and haul 
the Christmas tree, which was placed in the brick 
kitchen. It was literally a tree, and on its many 
boughs hung gifts for the household and servants. 

The woods loam was selected by David and hauled 
by Anah for Kerchibell, the old Scotch gardener, who 
put it on his early spring plants and flowers; indeed, 
almost every day the mule was hauling something, 
with David on the cart singing or nodding. 

Every Saturday at 12 o’clock the servants 
were allowed to quit work and haul the seine. 
The terrapins caught were brought to the mansion, 
with a goodly number of spot, hog and other fish ; the 
rest of the fish the servants were allowed to market 
for pin-money. At such times Uncle David was al- 
ways on deck with Anah. 

Eor twenty-five years Anah did faithful work, and 
David loved him and talked to him as though he was 
a human being, and said, “Anah almos’ knew’d his A. 
B. C’s.” Like most mules, however, in his old age 
he got full of kinks, and would bite and kick anyone 
but David, who said, “He hab grow’d ’ceitful an’ ub 
cose I hab ter scole him.” 

The old man was very credulous and as easily 
chaffed by his marster as Polonius was by Hamlet. 


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Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 


For example: One day whilst Anah was kicking np 
and putting on airs and David was grumbling and 
saying, “He ain’ no good no how; I sut’ny am tired ub 
dis mule,” his Mars Jimmy walked past the cart and 
said, “Fm going to sell that worthless old mule and 
get you a nice little mare I can buy at a bargain. True 
she is hip-shot, spavined and very lazy, but will do for 
your work.” 

David was perplexed and disconsolate and at bed- 
hour went to the stable. Anah was munching his 
oats, and David, little and bent, stood behind the 
mule, who switched his tail and laid back his ears as 
if to say, You are going to take away my oats. The 
old man’s eyes brimmed with tears ; he had a big, kind 
heart, and his affection for the mule was really touch- 
ing. Finally he said, “You recommember me all de 
time, don’ you, Anah? Don’ I al’ays feed you good 
an’ rub you an’ gib you uh sorf bed?” Then he 
walked into the stall, stroked the mule’s ear and said, 
“Jes’ ez sorf ez uh ’possum’s ear; you know I ain’ 
gwine ter let ’em sell you, Anah. Mars Jimmy kyant 
find an nerr mule in Talbot County like you. He 
ain’ gwine ter sell you, an’ ef’n he do, he got ter 
sell me wid you, dat he is ! W ell, da ain’ no tellin’ ; 
Mars Jimmy mout sell dis mule ter-morry, so I’m 
gwine ter sleep wid him dis night, fuh it mout be 
de po’ mule’s lars’ night heah. I’ll put some mo’ hay 


[ 217 ] 


Ole Mars a?i’ Ole Miss. 


in de bottom lib de manger, an’ wid dese corn-cobs 
I’ll meek ub pillab, put meb coat on it, an’ den I’ll 
kivver mebsef wid bay. Lemmy see — no, I won’ 
teck meb shoes orf, kase I mout bab ter git up futto 
git him some oats.” His bed arranged, the old man 
said, “I beab Pawson Demby say dat our blessid Lawd 
an’ Sabior wuz bawn in ub stable, so bit sut’ny good 
ernuff fuh me.” Weary and sad, he leaned against 
the manger, said bis prayers, and then he snuggled in 
the bay and sang bis favorite hymn : 

“What kind ub shoes you gwine ter wear? 

Golden slippers! 

What kind ub shoes you gwine ter wear? 

Golden slippers I’m bound ter wear, dat outshines de glit- 
ter-in’ sun. 

What kind ub crown you gwine ter wear? 

Star-ry crown! 

What kind ub crown you gwine ter wear? 

Star-ry crown I’m bound ter wear, dat outshines de glit- 
ter-in’ sun. 

What kind ub robe you gwine ter wear? 

White robe! 

What kind ub robe you gwine ter wear? 

White robe! 

Long white robe I’m bound ter wear, dat outshines de 
glit-ter-in’ sun. 

What kind ub hymn you gwine ter sing? 

New hymn! 

What kind ub hyarp you gwine ter play? 

Golden hyarp! 

Golden hyarp I’m bound ter play, dat outshines de glit — 
ter — in’ sun . 

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Ole Mars an ’ Ole Miss. 

Then all was hushed! 

Mayhap Uncle David dreamed he had on his golden 
slippers that outshone the glittering sun, wore a starry 
crown and long white robe, sang a new hymn, and 
played upon a golden harp, for the Bible tells us — 

“The sleep of a laboring man is sweet.” 


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